Preston Highlands Baptist Church

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Christians are Children

According to Jesus, a Chrisitan looks like a child. He says, “Truly, I say to you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God like a child shall not enter it” (Lk. 18:17). And, “Unless you turn and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven” (Mt. 18:3).

When Jesus wanted to illustrate what the citizens of his kingdom look like, he held up the image of a child. Not a strong leader. Not a wealthy businessman. Not a hard-working mom. Not a highly educated and well-connected young adult. Not an energetic teenager. A child. Jesus says true Christians look like children.

Why is this the image he grabs to illustrate his followers? Think about a young child, or even an infant (Lk. 18:15). What characterizes them? Needy. Weak. Small. Powerless. A young child lives with a posture of receiving, not giving. They have their eyes up and hands open. Eyes up because the world is so much bigger than them. Hands open because they have so much need.

Children illustrate the disposition and demeanor of someone who truly knows Jesus. Another way to say this is to say that a child best illustrates the life of faith. Christians are faith-full people. They know their need and weakness and dependence on God for mercy, and trust him to grant it. A Christian looks like a child because a child illustrates the life of faith.

What Faith Looks Like

In chapter 16, Jesus talked about the child-like disposition disciples have toward wealth and possessions. The inbreaking of the kingdom of God through Jesus makes his followers wise and strategic with their resources and gives them eyes to see the needs in front of them. Their heart is changed and their hands are opened. They know everything they have belongs to God and that they deserve nothing from God, so they live with gratitude and generosity.

Then in chapter 17, Jesus turns his attention to several other aspects of the spiritual formation of his disciples. He doesn’t want them to become like the Pharisees who disregard the “little ones,” are unmoved by the plight of sinners, and are unforgiving.

A disciple, rather, carries a disposition of forgiveness, faithfulness, and freedom to serve. This is Jesus’ way of further filling out the picture of what true faith looks like. It’s not a picture of strength and power and entitlement. It’s a picture of someone who’s willing to obey God because they know they’re not God and who knows they deserve nothing from God.

Forgiveness

Jesus doesn’t even remove his followers to a world where they won’t be tempted to sin. “Temptations to sin are sure to come” (Lk. 17:1). The world, our hearts, and the devil will provide us many opportunities to choose self over Christ.

Sometimes the temptations come through people who identify as Jesus’ disciples. This is why Paul warns the elders in Ephesus about fierce wolves who’ll come into the church to draw disciples away (Acts 20:29-30).

In verse 2, Jesus says it’s better to be drowned in the ocean than cause one of his children to sin or stumble. This warning reminds his disciples of the seriousness of being a “stumbling block” to another believer. He’s saying that his “kids” are responsible for their behavior (cf. Rom. 14:13, 1 Cor. 8:9-13). Woe to those who bring temptation to Jesus’ people!

The “little ones” (v. 2) aren’t specifically identified, but in the context of the last several chapters of Luke, it’d be people like Lazarus, the prodigal son, the tax collectors and sinners, the poor and cripple and lame and blind (14:13), the man with dropsy (14:1-6), and the disabled woman (13:11-16). The “little ones” are the weak who understand their weakness. They’re the insignificant ones in the world’s eyes. Jesus makes it clear that it’s the weak and small and insignificant, the so-called “little ones,” who’re significant to God (18:15-17).

Jesus’ words here mean that sin and temptation will be part of the life of faith. We will be tempted, we will sin, we will be sinned against, and fellow believers around us will sin. To this last point Jesus turns in verses 3-4.

In the parable of the two sons, the younger son is welcomed home by the Father after he did lots of sinning, and the Father showers him with extravagant grace. Because of this, some may think that sin isn’t that big a deal, or that sin can be ignored or swept under the rug. But these verses say this isn’t the case.

Jesus says plainly in verse 3 that if a “brother,” that is, a fellow believer, sins, that we should confront and correct them. Jesus says we go to them and rebuke them. We don’t go to others. We go to them. This isn’t our tendency. Rather, we tend to go to others to talk about someone’s sin. It’s far easier and more gratifying to talk behind someone’s back about their sin rather than talk to them face to face. But, as one writer says, “The community of disciples is not to be a community of snipers.”

When someone comes to you with someone else’s sin, your first and primary response should be, “I do not want to talk to you about this. You need to talk with them.” Words can do irreparable damage. Even if they aren’t true, once they’re out there, they can’t be taken back. They’re left to create suspicion and doubt where there should be none.

Jesus says that his people help each other fight sin, face to face, with grace. He says that his people not only confront sin, but also forgive sin (vv. 3b-4). Forgiveness of sin is a basic calling in the Christian life. As Paul says, “Bear with one another and, if one has a complaint against another, forgiving each other, as the Lord has forgiven you, so you also must forgive” (Col. 3:13). As we confront sin we do so with an awareness that we’re also sinners. We come to our brother or sister with humility because we know we’re just as guilty before God as they are. So we come with grace. We come with unconditional forgiveness.

Faithfulness

In verse 6, Jesus reminds them that it’s not the quantity of their faith that matters but the power of God. “If you had faith like a grain of mustard seed…” He’s saying that it’s not the quantity of faith but the object of faith that matters.

A “mulberry tree” had an extensive and deep root system. Uprooting one was a daunting and basically hopeless task. And planting it in the sea is just as hopeless and indeed impossible.

Jesus is saying that their issue isn’t the strength of their faith because that’s not what can uproot mulberry trees or plant them in the ocean, so to speak. Only God can do that. Jesus is saying that even the smallest faith can work wonders because it’s not the strength of our faith but the strength of our God that matters. So we must not worry about the size of our faith but should rather be inspired to trust God’s power and grace.

By talking about uprooting mulberry trees and planting them in the ocean, Jesus isn’t saying that his disciples can do sensational wonders. The marvels that Jesus has in mind are more mundane. As I said, not causing brothers to stumble and confronting and forgiving sin again and again are the marvels Jesus has in mind. One writer says it like this, “Faith is not a form of magic that enables us to control nature or to get God to do our bidding. Faith is a response to God’s initiative that trusts that we are empowered to do what God requires. If we wait until we can say we have enough faith to do what Jesus asks, we will probably never do anything.”

A follower of Jesus is faith-full, full of faith, believing that God will help them do what he asks them to do, even when it feels huge and scary and impossible. Like a child, Christians believe that their Father in heaven is good and wise and knows best, and they gladly take him at his word.

Freedom to Serve

The point here is simple: the servant, not the master, is the one under obligation. Jesus is making a point about his disciple’s responsibilities as God’s servants. He’s saying that they don’t put God in their debt by performing their responsibilities.

The parable torpedoed the expectations in the ancient world about serving the gods. Those who worshipped the Greco-Roman gods assumed that worshipping them and following their rules meant they’d receive some benefit in return. And if they didn’t, they’d move to a more accommodating god. The gods were expected to reciprocate with gifts for being served by the worshipper.

Jesus is saying that this is not the way it works with the one true God. He’s saying that those who serve the true God don’t do so in a patron-client relationship kind of way, where God the patron is expected to bless us his clients when we serve him. Rather, we’re to do what we’re supposed to do, expecting nothing in return.

We don’t act like the older brother and say, “Look, I’ve served you all these years, where’s my reward!” (15:29) Jesus’ response to that mindset is, “So what?” Our service to God does not put God in debt to us.

No matter how much work we do as God’s servants, God the master is never indebted to us. “Who has given a gift to (God) that he might be repaid?” (Rom. 11:35) We will always be his debtor and will never be able to repay the debt we owe. And we’re not meant to repay it because we’re meant to be dependent on grace.

God doesn’t “thank” us because that would mean he needed something we gave him (v. 9). God never says “thank you” to us because he doesn’t owe us anything. Rather, he’s the one always giving us more than we deserve, and we’re the ones who owe him thanks. After we’ve done all we should do, God owes us no thanks.

Rather, after we’ve done all we’re supposed to do, we’re just as much debtors to his grace as we were before. Notice that Jesus calls them “unworthy servants” after they did all they were supposed to do (v. 10). John Piper points out that this is a great encouragement to our faith “because it means that God is just as free to bless us before we get our act together as he is after.”

In other words, since we’re unworthy before we obey God and after we obey God, it’s only grace that prompts God to help us. We’re unworthy period, whether we do everything right or not. So any help we get from God is only because of grace. We don’t earn or deserve it. We only trust him to give it.

A Master Who Serves

Jesus says that his followers aren’t entitled and shouldn’t think God owes them anything. They know that God owes no one anything. If he did, grace wouldn’t be grace. It’d be payment or reward, not gift. Like children, Jesus’ followers come to God with empty hands and humble hearts.

Jesus’ followers understand that they’re the ones who owe God a massive debt that they can never repay. The interest alone is enough to kill them. They know that their sin debt suffocates their souls.

But they also understand that the Master went to the bank to pay the servants’ debt at great cost to himself. They understand that the Master paid all they owed on the cross. And this understanding empowers them to deal with sin and forgive sin and believe God for help and to live with gratitude and humility and a rock-solid commitment to do their duty before God in all their callings.

When the servants understand that the Master came to serve them, they’ll do whatever he asks and expect nothing in return. Like children, they serve freely and joyfully out of love. This kind of life is a picture of true faith.

Do You See the Poor?

Let me begin with two questions.  First, have you ever been out somewhere and seen someone famous?  How did you react?  When this happens, it’s interesting how people respond.  It’s not every day that the gods of our age come and walk among us mere mortals.  This is why we stare at them!

I remember when my parents took us to see Chuck Norris when I was a kid.  When he walked in we all oohed and awed.  All eyes were on him as he walked down the aisle and onto the stage, and we all stayed afterward to get his autograph.  And then there was the time Suzy and I were out for dinner and saw Mark Cuban.  And the time we saw Tony Romo at a church we were at.

Something weird happens when a famous person shows up.  It’s almost like we can’t help but stare and watch their every move.  We try to nonchalantly glance over at them, hoping they see us, wondering what a person we see on TV looks like in real life.  We love looking at the rich and famous.

Second question: Have you ever been stopped at a red light and seen a panhandler?  Have you ever been driving through the city and seen poor people gathered under a bridge?  Have you ever been out and about and had a homeless person brush by you?

When this happens, how do you respond?  The sights and smells can be hard to take in.  Do you turn away?  Do you try to avoid eye contact with the panhandler, afraid that if they see you looking at them, they’ll come over to your car?  Do you ever give them the dignity of a warm look and soft smile and quiet prayer for God to help and heal and save them?

The way we often react to the rich and to the poor couldn’t be more different.  Our eyes are drawn toward the one and away from the other.  We want to be near one and away from the other.  We hope the one sees us while the other remains unseen by us.

The Generosity of True Faith

As we conclude Luke 16, Jesus tells a story about a rich man who didn’t see, or didn’t want to see, a poor man.  In ways we may not like to admit, it’s a story about our hearts.

Jesus has been speaking to Pharisees who loved money but didn’t know God (vv. 14-15).  In this context, he continues to teach on the effects of wealth in the parable of the rich man and Lazarus (vv. 19-31).  This parable, like the one that begins chapter 16, isn’t a denunciation of wealth.  Rather, it serves as a warning about the dangers of wealth.  Specifically, it’s a denunciation of the wealthy who neglect the poor.

But the parable is about more than money.  It’s actually about how what we do with our money, especially in relation to the poor, has eternal implications.  The main thrust of the parable is that what we do in this life matters in the next one.  It’s a story that teaches us that how we hold our wealth reveals our heart.

The main point of this text is that living generously in this life is evidence that you’re ready for the next one.  First, we’ll see Jesus’ call to live generously in verses 19-26.  And second, we’ll see his call for us to believe God’s word in verses 27-31.  This text tells us that living generously is evidence that we believe God’s word.  This parable is about the generosity of true faith.

Live Generously

First, in verses 19-26, we see Jesus’ call for us to live generously.  This parable is a story of two men, a rich man (v. 19) and a poor man (v. 20).

To be clear, this isn’t a story condemning wealth.  In the Old Testament, Abraham and Job were very wealthy and very godly men.  In the New Testament, Lydia, the first Christian in Europe, was “a seller of purple goods” and had a house large enough to host the church Paul planted in Philippi (Acts 16:11-15).  Lydia was wealthy and godly.

But wealth can be a snare in the life of faith (16:13, 8:14), as it always comes with responsibility and temptation.  This is why Jesus says it’s easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich person to enter the kingdom of God (Lk. 18:25).  This parable illustrates that principle perfectly.  It reminds us that Jesus warns about greed more than sex in the Gospels, yet most of us don’t think we’re guilty of greed.

The rich man is over-the-top rich.  He wears purple cloth made from a dye extracted from snails (an expensive and difficult process) and “fine linen” undergarments.  Anyone wearing a purple cloak over a bright linen undergarment would turn heads.  And every day he feasts in his home (v. 19).  He was never hungry and never without friends and family who wanted to be around his table.

Jesus intentionally doesn’t give the rich man a name.  He may be rich and successful, but in this story, he has no honor.  Jesus is saying that those who don’t show mercy to those in need don’t deserve a name.

Wouldn’t it be sad if all that can be said of us when we die is, “She was wealthy,” or “He was well-off and successful.”  If all we’re known for is what we have and not what we are or what we do, then we’re like this rich man, not worthy of a name.

Then there’s Lazarus, the poor man.  This isn’t the Lazarus who was Jesus’ friend.  “Lazarus” was a common name at that time.  Jesus says he was poor, sick, and hungry.  These things often go together, which is why the best mercy ministries take a holistic approach.

Verse 20 says that someone lays Lazarus at the rich man’s gate.  A house with a gate would’ve been a large and expensive property.  But the gate is more than a symbol of wealth.  It’s a boundary.  It keeps anyone who the rich man doesn’t want to see out of his sight.  Sure, the rich man likely looked at Lazarus by his gate, but every day he passes by him without seeing him.

No one pays attention to Lazarus except the scavenger dogs who lick his sores (v. 21).  Lazarus’ only companions are unclean animals.  There he is, at the gate of opulence, poor, covered in sores, probably lame, tossed there like a piece of trash, with the faint hope that someone will toss him some scraps of food.  But because he “belongs to the invisible class of expendables,” no one sees him.[1]

Lazarus is just hanging on, surviving day by day.  But he has something the rich man doesn’t.  He has a name.  His name is, ironically, from the Hebrew “Eliezar,” which means “God helps.”  Eliezer was the name of Abraham’s heir and servant (Gen. 15:2).

The original audience (and us today) would likely assess these two men like this: The rich man is favored by God because his wealth is evidence of God’s blessing, while Lazarus is rejected by God because his poverty and sickness is evidence of God’s curse.  We may wonder what sins Lazarus must’ve committed to be punished like that from God?  We’d want to be around the rich man and probably have lots of suspicions about poor Lazarus.

But interestingly, Jesus names Lazarus, giving him a distinctive identity.  By naming the poor man “Lazarus,” Jesus is saying, “He is poor and miserable, but God is still on his side.”[2]  And as his name implies, and as we see next, God helps Lazarus even though the rich man didn’t.

A Great Reversal

These men lived on opposite sides of the tracks in life.  But when they died, there was a great reversal (vv. 22-23).  Lazarus dies and is taken to “Abraham’s side” (v. 22).  The rich man dies and goes to “Hades” (v. 23).

Turns out that Lazarus isn’t cursed, he’s blessed!  No burial is mentioned for him, but even if he wasn’t honored in his life or his death, he’s honored after his death.  The angels of God lift him up to Abraham’s side, a place of honor and blessing and celebration.

The rich man was buried (v. 22b), and it was probably an elaborate burial.  But his honor in life and death doesn’t lead to honor after his death.  Rather, he’s cursed, finding himself being tormented in Hades.

Two Places

This story isn’t meant to be a systematic theology on heaven and hell.  But it does teach us that there is conscious existence after we die, both for the lost and the saved.  Which rules out the notion of soul-sleep, or the view that the soul is unconscious at the time of death, and annihilationism, the view that unbelievers cease to exist after death.

Secular materialists don’t believe in any existence at all after death.  But even some Christians believe that the soul sleeps or is annihilated upon death.  Jesus’ story undermines both these views.  His point is that we’ll be very much alive after we die.

The rich man is very much aware and very much in pain.  Part of the torment of Hades is that those who’re there seem to be all alone.  There’s a “great chasm” separating the rich man from Lazarus in heaven (v. 26).  There are no visitors or visitation hours for those imprisoned in hell.

In hell, the common grace of God is removed, including the common grace of relationships and conversation.  You are stuck forever in solitary confinement.

Jesus’ teaching here also means there’s no such thing as purgatory, or a temporary habitation from which it’s possible to leave.  There’s no highway from hell to heaven.  Verse 26, “Those who would pass from here to you may not be able” means that there’s no evangelism in hell after death.  And, “None may cross from there to us” means there’s no escape from hell.  As Derek Thomas says, “Where we find ourselves after death is where we will be forever.”[3]

Request Denied

Unfortunately, death didn’t change the rich man’s heart.  After dying, he makes two requests and both of them are self-centered.  First, he cries for mercy and relief from the pain (v. 24).  Even in death, he’s still bossing people around, “send Lazarus…”  The fact that he knows Lazarus’s name means he knew him when he laid outside his gate when he was still alive.  Though he never lifted a finger to help Lazarus, now he wants Lazarus to wet his finger to help him.

Abraham denies his request (v. 25).  The great principle of reversal is at work and cannot be overturned.  The rich man lacked mercy in life so he will receive none in death.  The rich man could’ve helped but didn’t so now he suffers the consequences.

Even if Lazarus wanted to help, he couldn’t because of the “great chasm” separating them (v. 26).  This means it’s too late for the rich man.  He had his chance to know God and obey his Word in life, but he didn’t.  So now he reaps what he has sowed.

Believe God’s Word

The rich man’s second request is in verses 27-31, where Jesus calls us to believe God’s word.  The rich man’s second request is for the salvation of his five brothers (vv. 27-28).  He wants Abraham to send Lazarus to his family to warn them about hell.  This is an understandable request.  It’s what we’d want our loved ones who die and go to hell to do for us.

But it’s also more selfishness.  Even in hell, the rich man thinks Lazarus should serve him.  He’s thinking about people besides himself, but only those in his family.  He’s still stuck on his wants, and he wants to use Lazarus to get what he wants.  And he thinks his brothers’ hardheartedness is so severe that only a visit by someone from the dead could shock them into repentance.

The Most Convincing Evidence

In verses 29-31, Abraham denies his second request.  One writer says, “Abraham will have nothing to do with sensational appearances of the dead as a means of persuasion.”[4]  Abraham says that the brothers have all they need for salvation in the Scriptures.

Jesus is saying that it’s better to send the lost brothers a Bible than a resurrected person.  He says if they don’t believe the Word of God, they won’t believe a miracle.

What would you think is more convincing, someone coming to you from the dead, or someone bringing you a Bible?  If we’re honest, we’d say seeing the resurrected person.

Jesus’ point is that signs from God are pointless if our heart isn’t right.  Darrell Bock says this better than I can:

“Only a responsive heart will listen to God’s message and respond to his great works.  No amount of wonder-working can change a heart that is unwilling to be challenged by God’s demand for righteousness.  A lack of signs is not why people reject Jesus.  Rather, people willfully reject him.  The heart cannot see what it is not looking for.”[5]

A refusal to repent isn’t the result of the lack of evidence but due to a stony heart.  Jesus’ message is one of repentance, and those who see their need and repent receive his forgiveness and become compassionate and generous people.

Living generously in this life is evidence that you’re ready for the next one.  What we do with our money, especially in relation to the poor, has eternal implications.

What About You?

What about you?  Where will you be five minutes after you die?  Will you go to Abraham’s side or to Hades?  How much money you have is irrelevant.  Whether you put your faith in Jesus and your faith is proved through a sacrificial life is all that matters.

You have to decide what you’ll do with the good news of Jesus Christ.  There is life after death in either heaven or hell and the time to choose between these two destinies is now.  The gospel is only good news if you accept it before you die.

Not Caring for the Poor Means You Don’t Know God

The rich man has no concern for the basic needs of the poor man at his doorstep.  He uses his wealth on himself every day.  He sees Lazarus but ignores him.  He doesn’t offer him food or clothing or basic medical care, and he dies and goes straight to hell.

Jesus isn’t teaching that the poor go to heaven and the rich go to hell.  He is teaching that how we see and respond to needs around us is evidence of whether heaven or hell is in our hearts.

The rich man didn’t end up in Hades because he was rich, but because he had no faith.  How do we know that?  Because he had no deeds that flowed from faith (Js. 2:14-17).  If he truly knew God, he would’ve done what he could to help the poor.  The consistent teaching of the Bible is that God’s people care about the poor.  The apostle John says, “If anyone has the world’s goods and sees his brother in need, yet closes his heart against him, how does God’s love abide in him?” (1 Jn. 3:17)

If we love our money and possessions more than we love God and the people God made, we may be headed to the same place as this rich man.  Again Derek Thomas puts it bluntly: “If money matters more than people, it shows you have an unregenerate heart.”[6]

Another writer brings the point home, and is worth quoting at length:

“Wealth may indeed be a blessing from God and the result of hard work, but…what the parable attacks is a particular kind of wealth, wealth that does not see poverty and suffering.  It attacks the idea that possessions are for one’s own use and that they are owned without responsibility to God and other people.  This is not, as some have feared, an opiate for the poor which will keep them satisfied with a handout.  The parable does not tell us how the wealthy are to assist the poor, but it insists that the poor are brothers and sisters of the wealthy and that the injustice of the juxtaposition of wealth and poverty cannot be tolerated.

Increasingly our societies are divided into the haves and the have-nots, especially as the stock market has skyrocketed and technology has flourished.  In many countries the disparity is obscene.  In urban areas (like Dallas, the wealthy neighborhoods) overshadow poverty-stricken neighborhoods.  Lazarus is still at the gate.  Parables like this one insist that Christians must not be like the rich man who cares only for his kind and cannot see the poor until too late.  We dare not have a gospel with an evangelistic emphasis and no concern for the poor.  Any gospel that is not good news to the poor is not the gospel of Jesus (see Luke 4:18-22)…

The issue here is the willingness and ability to see a person in need and respond.  The rich man’s wealth and self-centeredness do not allow him to see Lazarus.  If Jesus asked Simon, ‘Do you see this woman?’ (Luke 7:44), he could as well have asked the rich man, ‘Do you see Lazarus?’  The ability to see is the mark of Christian discipleship…

Numerous questions exist about how individuals and churches should help poor people – to say nothing of dealing with more systemic poverty or poor countries.  Let us have our discussions about how we should act and the problems to avoid.  But God forbid that we not see, not care, and not act to alleviate the plight of the poor.  Open your eyes to see Lazarus at the gate.”[7]

The only thing that will open our eyes to see Lazarus at the gate is grace.  2 Corinthians 8:9, “For you know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that though he was rich, yet for your sake he became poor, so that you by his poverty might become rich.”

We deserve nothing but Jesus became poor to give us everything.  When we understand this grace and receive it, it changes our hearts and opens our hands.

[1]Diane G. Chen, Luke: A New Covenant Commentary, New Covenant Commentary Series (Eugene, OR: Cascade Books, 2017), 228.

[2]Klyne R. Snodgrass, Stories with Intent: A Comprehensive Guide to the Parables of Jesus, 2nd ed. (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2018), 429.

[3]Derek W. H. Thomas, Heaven on Earth: What the Bible Teaches about Life to Come (Ross-Shire, Scotland: Christian Focus, 2018), 25.

[4]Chen, 230.

[5]Darrell L. Bock, Luke, Volume 2: 9:51-24:53, in Baker Exegetical Commentary of the New Testament, ed. Moises Silva (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 1996), 1378.

[6]Thomas, 25.

[7]Snodgrass, 433-4, emphasis his.

What Does Remarriage Have to Do with the Kingdom of God?

Jesus’ practice of eating with sinners (15:1-2) had, among other things, led the Pharisees to believe that he doesn’t really care about the Law.  So in Luke 16:17 Jesus insists on the enduring validity of the law and in verse 18 he gives an example using the issue of divorce and remarriage.

Jesus offers a rather rigorous interpretation of the law, placing man and woman on the same level regarding adultery.  He condemns “serial monogamy,” or the practice of divorcing your spouse just to marry someone else.  By prohibiting remarriage, Jesus’ teaching differs from the rabbinic teaching of his day.  He interprets the Law’s teaching in Deuteronomy 24:1-4 in a way that, on the one hand, “assumes the ongoing authority of the law,” while also making the law’s regulations “more stringent than they appear in Deuteronomy,” thus challenging “the relaxation of the law among his contemporaries.”[1]

In other words, Jesus is telling the Pharisees, “It’s not enough to affirm the authority of the Law, you must also interpret and apply it appropriately, especially in light of the inbreaking of God’s kingdom through my ministry.”

What is Marriage?

Before we discuss what Jesus says about remarriage, let’s spend a moment considering marriage.  If we don’t understand what the Bible says about marriage, we won’t understand what it says about remarriage.  Marriage, according to Scripture, is a lifelong commitment between a man and a woman meant to reveal the covenant-keeping love between Jesus and his church.

First, marriage is a “lifelong commitment,” or “covenant.”  Malachi 2:14, “The Lord was witness between you and the wife of your youth, to whom you have been faithless, though she is your companion and your wife by covenant.”  The vows that husband and wife exchange, whether before a pastor or priest or in a civil court, are what form a marriage.

A marriage isn’t consummated, or achieved, on the wedding night, but rather when the vows are exchanged.  In other words, marriage is not equated with sexual relations.  Marriage implies sexual union and creates the God-given context for it, but the two are not the same.  Marriage is bigger than sex.  The idea that a marriage truly begins when sexual relations occur rather than when vows are taken is foreign to Scripture.  If this were so, then I’d be lying when I say at the end of a wedding ceremony, “I now pronounce you husband and wife.”  Covenant makes a marriage.  Vows form and constitute a marriage.

This also means that if you want to get married just to have sex, you don’t yet understand what marriage is.  In the Bible, marriage isn’t based on feelings, but is rather a commitment and a promise.  When you’re ready to commit your life to someone no matter how you feel, then you’re ready for marriage.  Not just when you’re ready for sex.

Second, marriage is between a man and a woman.  Genesis 2:24, “A man shall leave his father and his mother and hold fast to his wife, and they shall become one flesh.”  A marriage happens when a man and woman leave their parents and commit themselves to one another.  “Same-sex marriage” is not marriage.  It’s the invention of man.  Call it whatever you want, but it’s not marriage.

Third, marriage reveals the covenant-keeping love between Jesus and his church.  After quoting Genesis 2:24, Paul says, “This mystery is profound, and I am saying that it refers to Christ and the church” (Eph. 5:32).  The purpose of marriage is to display Jesus’ unbreakable covenant love for his bride the church.  Marriage is meant to preach the gospel.

God invented marriage, which is why only God can define what it is.  In Genesis 2, it’s God who says to Adam, “It is not good that the man should be alone; I will make him a helper fit for him” (v. 18).  After putting Adam to sleep and taking one of his ribs, the Lord fashioned the woman and “brought her to the man” (v. 22).

Marriage was God’s idea, not Adam’s.  God officiated the first wedding and gave away the first bride.  He therefore has the right to set the rules and regulations for marriage.  He made it, he owns it, so he can order it however he wants.

Jesus and Divorce

Marriage, according to Scripture, is a lifelong commitment between a man and a woman meant to reveal the covenant-keeping love between Jesus and his church.  Now that we have a good understanding of what the Bible says marriage is, we can more fruitfully consider what Jesus says about divorce and remarriage.

It’ll help us interpret Luke 16:18 if we look at it’ parallel in Mark 10:1-12.  In Mark 10, Jesus is asked about the lawfulness of divorce (v. 2).  It’s a great question.  Many today don’t even ask it unfortunately, even in the church.  Many assume that divorce is okay.  You can get easy and cheap divorces online.  There’s very little social stigma that accompanies divorce anymore.  But we should ask the question: “Is it lawful?”

Jesus knew how the Pharisees defended divorces.  He knew they twisted the Law of Moses and applied it inappropriately.  Some of them taught that a man could divorce his wife if she burnt his dinner.  So Jesus takes them to the place they love to use (v. 3).  They answered Jesus by quoting Deuteronomy 24:1 in verse 4.

In verse 5, Jesus’ response to their response is that God gave this law through Moses because of their hard hearts.  Jesus is saying that this law isn’t what God wants all the time, but is rather a concession for how to manage divorce.  In other words, he’s saying that our sinful and hard hearts don’t cancel God’s original design for marriage.  Deuteronomy 24:1 was meant for damage control.  It in no way meant that divorce was good or okay.  It in no way was meant to normalize divorce.

Jesus Obliterates Moses

Then, in verses 6-9, Jesus obliterates the “certificate of divorce” that Moses allowed by telling the Pharisees that divorce is not God’s design because God created marriage (vv. 6-8) and because God creates marriages (v. 9).  Jesus uses what Moses says in Genesis 1 and 2 to tell the Pharisees that they’re misunderstanding and misapplying the law of Moses.

Jesus quotes Genesis to show them that God created marriage, so he gets to decide what it looks like.  Jesus says that husband and wife are “no longer two but one flesh” (v. 8).  Marriage is a mysterious union where two people become one body.

Then Jesus says this union is the work of God.  Verse 9a, “What therefore God has joined together.”  This mysterious “one flesh” union is God’s creation, God’s work, not ours.  Any time two people decide to get married, and a pastor or priest or justice of the peace legalizes the union, all of that is secondary to what God is doing.  God is the primary agent in bringing husband and wife together.

Because it’s God’s work, Jesus says, “let not man separate (the husband and wife).”  The word for man is the word for “humanity,” not the specific word for “male.”  The idea is that, if God joined a husband and wife together, then humans should not destroy what he created.

The Exception Clause

Matthew’s version of this account adds a crucial qualification that we need to briefly consider (Matt. 19:8-9).  Godly, Bible-loving, conservative, evangelical scholars and pastors disagree on the exact meaning of this “exception clause.”  There are three main positions we could take here.  One says that divorce and remarriage would be biblically justified for a spouse who was sinned against through adultery or sexual immorality.  This is the “divorce and remarriage” view.  A second view is that Jesus is here allowing for divorce on account of sexual sin, but not remarriage.  This is the “divorce, but no remarriage” view.  And a third view is that this exception clause does not allow for divorce or remarriage.  This is the “no divorce, no remarriage” view.

The place I land is the “divorce, but no remarriage” view. I wrestle with whether remarriage is permissible when the divorce is on biblical grounds (ie. adultery or abandonment).  Jim Newheiser argues for this in his book Marriage, Divorce, and Remarriage.  He says remarriage is permissible when the divorce is on biblical grounds.[2]  I’m not totally convinced this is what the Bible teaches, though I admit that I need to do more thinking and digging on this question.

It seems to me that, even though Jesus makes a concession for divorce in the case of sexual immorality, the New Testament still prohibits remarriage.  Paul prohibits remarriage in absolute terms in 1 Corinthians 7:10-11 and Romans 7:1-3.  Mark and Luke also speak this way (Mk. 10:10-12; Lk. 16:18).

This point carries more weight when we remember that God makes a marriage and only death can break it.  This is why the apostles talk about remarriage in terms of “adultery.”  It’s adultery because remarrying while your spouse is still living is an act of unfaithfulness to the marriage covenant.  John Piper, in his book This Momentary Marriage, says it this way, “We promised ‘till death do us part’ because that is what God says marriage is, and even if our spouse breaks his or her covenant vows, we will not break ours.”[3]  If our spouse sins against us and commits adultery, we may be allowed to divorce, but I don’t think that we’re free to remarry.

To summarize: in the exception clause of Matthew 19, taken with corresponding passages in the New Testament, Jesus allows for divorce on account of sexual sin, but does not allow for remarriage.

Three Questions

The view I’m advocating here undoubtedly brings many questions to mind.  I’ll do my best to answer three of them.  First, is it okay to remarry after a spouse dies?  Yes.  The key text is Romans 7:1-3.  Paul says that it’s adulterous for a woman to “live with another man while her husband is alive” (v. 3).  But “if her husband dies she is free from that law, and if she marries another man she is not an adulteress” (v. 3).  And 1 Corinthians 7:39 says, “A wife is bound to her husband as long as he lives.  But if her husband dies, she is free to be married to whom she wishes, only in the Lord.”

Death ends a marriage.  Jesus says that there will be no marriage in heaven (Matt. 22:30).  So no, young lovebirds, your relationship will not last forever.  It’s a temporary institution meant to point to eternal realities, namely, Jesus’ unbreakable covenant love for his church.  This is why traditional marriage vows say, “Till death do us part,” or “As long as we both shall live.”  God makes a marriage and only God can break a marriage.  And he does so by death.  Because death ends a marriage, we’re free to remarry after our spouse dies without breaking our covenantal vows.

A second question is, if a divorced person has already remarried, should they leave the later marriage?  No, they should not.  Even if a person remarries against God’s will, they shouldn’t break the second marriage covenant (or third, fourth, etc.) they entered just to make things right.  The remarriage should not have been done, but now that it is done, it should not be undone.  Dr. Piper tells us what God can do in a less-than-ideal marriage.  He says that, in a remarriage while the other spouse is still living, “Real covenant vows have been made.  And that real covenant of marriage may be purified by the blood of Jesus and set apart for God.  In other words, I don’t think that a couple who repents and seeks God’s forgiveness and receives his cleansing should think of their lives as ongoing adultery, even though, in the eye of Jesus, that’s how the relationship started.”[4]  I grew up in the context of marriages that probably should not have begun, as both my mom and dad remarried after divorcing.  But through repentance and faith and the work of the Spirit, those marriages were made holy, cleansed, and used by God in countless ways.

A third question is, if an unbelieving spouse insists on leaving a believing spouse, what should the believing spouse do?  Paul gives us our answer in 1 Corinthians 7:12-16.  Paul says that, if divorce is forced upon a believer by an unbeliever, the believer should “let it be so.”  They should not make war because God has called them to peace.  The believer isn’t “enslaved” to the unbeliever if the unbeliever wants out (v. 15).  They shouldn’t stubbornly stay in order to save their spouse because they don’t know if their spouse will be saved or not (v. 16).  The believing spouse may divorce, but not remarry, because, while they’re not “enslaved” to the marriage, they’re “bound” to the covenant they made until death (v. 39).

The view I’m advocating here is not a popular one, in or out of the church.  But, as far as I’m able to understand, the plain meaning of all the related texts is that divorce is contrary to God’s original design though there are exceptions for adultery and abandonment, and that remarriage while your spouse is still alive is considered adultery.  While there are some exceptions regarding divorce, there aren’t any regarding remarriage while your spouse is still living.

Eight Concluding Applications

I want to close with several points of application.  First, “No one is righteous, no, not one…no one does good, not even one” (Rom. 3:10, 12).  Those who haven’t been divorced and remarried are just as unrighteous as those who have.  Please don’t think that your long and faithful marriage or your pure single life gains you any favor with God.  We all stand condemned before Almighty God because of our sin.

Second, divorce and remarriage are not unforgivable sins.  They’re injuries that can and should be treated, not cancers that can’t be healed.

Third, the gospel of Jesus Christ is for sinners, divorced, remarried, or otherwise.  Jesus has the power to heal, forgive, cleanse, redeem, and make new.  His blood covers the sin of everyone who turns to him and trusts in him and enters into an everlasting union with him.

Fourth, those dealing with the consequences and effects and aftermath of divorce need our love and support and prayers and encouragement.  It’s possible to say to a brother or sister in Christ, “God hates divorce, but he loves you and I love you and I’m going to stand with you and walk with you through this transition and help you travel the road before you.”

Fifth, there’s help for you if you’re dealing with adultery, divorce, remarriage, or contemplating any of those things.  If you’re a member of this church, God has given you a pastor to watch over your soul.  He’s given you other members to walk with.  Member or not, there are professional counselors I’d love to connect you with.  There are books on every angle of this.  You’re not meant to struggle alone.

If you’re thinking about cheating on your spouse, please don’t.  I plead with you to please understand that you’ll only make your life harder, not easier.  There are consequences that will touch your family for generations.  You’ll have to talk to God about your actions.  And your neck is likely to get caught in the barbwire fence if you try to taste what you think will be greener grass on the other side.  The Bible says, “Can a man carry fire next to his chest and his clothes not be burned?  Or can one walk on hot coals and his feet not be scorched?  So is he who goes into his neighbor’s wife; none who touches her will go unpunished…He who commits adultery lacks sense; he who does it destroys himself.  He will get wounds and dishonor, and his disgrace will not be wiped away” (Pro. 6:27-29, 32-33).

If you’re thinking about divorce or remarriage, please seek the Scriptures diligently, pray, and seek godly counsel.  There’s no shame in coming to talk to me or another church member if you’re wrestling with your situation.  None of us have all the answers.  We need the body of Christ.  There’s safety in many counselors (Pro. 11:14).

Sixth, if you’re in an abusive situation, it’s okay to separate in order to get your spouse’s attention or to get to safety.  If you’re in a physically or sexually abusive situation, I urge you to separate from your spouse immediately.  You don’t have to stay and endure continued abuse.  Separation may sometimes lead to divorce, but if a spouse refuses to repent of their abusive behaviors, they’re acting like an unbeliever who’s abandoned the marriage, so you’re free to separate and/or divorce.  As Leslie Vernick says in her book The Emotionally Destructive Marriage, “Divorce is the last resort when efforts to reconcile and bring true peace in the marriage have repeatedly failed…For some women, divorce might be the best choice because of her and her children’s safety and sanity.”[5]

Divorce breaks what God never intended to be broken.  That doesn’t mean that divorce won’t sometimes be the wisest and safest decision.  If your spouse is being abusive in any way, please tell someone.  Tell a trusted friend, a pastor, counselor, parent, sibling, someone.  You don’t have to suffer alone.  And don’t think what I’ve said today means you have to stay in that relationship no matter what.  You don’t.  Jesus and his people want you to be safe and sane and able to live the full life he purchased for you.

Seventh, if you’re single and hope to marry someday, please don’t be hasty.  It’s not a race.  Bad decisions are usually made when we’re in a hurry.  Make sure the person you want to marry is a Christian, loves Jesus, loves his Word, and loves his church.  Some marriages that end badly should never have started in the first place.  The church is God’s eyes and ears for you.  Seek counsel.  Listen to what others say.  Walk with godly couples who can help you think through things.

Eighth, and lastly, the most important thing about us is not our marital status or marital history, but rather who we are in Christ.  If you’re married to Christ through faith, you’re a precious son or daughter of God, welcomed to his table, given his righteousness, cleansed of your guilt and shame, and filled with his Spirit.  Whether you’re married or divorced or remarried or single, you have a hope and a future in Christ.  Jesus is the best thing you have, and the only thing you need.

[1]Quotes and content of this paragraph from Joel B. Green, The Gospel of Luke, The New International Commentary on the New Testament (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1997), 603-4.

[2]Jim Newheiser, Marriage, Divorce, and Remarriage: Critical Questions and Answers (Phillipsburg, NJ: P&R Publishing, 2017), 278-9.

[3]John Piper, “This Momentary Marriage: A Parable of Permanence,” in The Collected Works of John Piper, vol. 7, eds. David Mathis and Justin Taylor (Wheaton: Crossway, 2017), 654.

[4]Ibid.

[5]Leslie Vernick, The Emotionally Destructive Marriage: How to Find Your Voice and Reclaim Your Hope (New York: Waterbrook, 2013), 176.

What Do You Want?

Why does Scripture emphasize our hearts, what we could call our affections or loves? Because what we love, what we want, what we desire shapes everything else. We often assume we’re driven by our minds or intellect, but I think it’s the other way round. Our thoughts follow our desires. We’re good at coming up with reasons to justify the things we want, because what we want is what drives us. This is why there is often a gap between what we know and what we do. We’re more than “thinking things,” to use Descartes word. We mustn’t reject thinking, but we must recognize it’s limits. Smith again, “We don’t need less than knowledge; we need more.”

This is Paul’s prayer in Philippians 1, “And it is my prayer that your love may abound more and more, with knowledge and all discernment, so that you may approve what is excellent, and so be pure and blameless for the day of Christ” (vv. 9-10). Paul begins by praying for an abounding love, then prays for an accompanying knowledge. He understands that we are what we love, not what we think.

The Pharisees Problem

The main point of our text today, Luke 16:14-17, is that Jesus came to move us from loving self to loving God. This text shows us that, in our flesh, we love our self and our wealth, but in Christ we begin to love God’s salvation and his word. In verses 14-15, we’ll see love for self. And in verses 16-17, we’ll see love for God. As we go along, ask yourself, “What do I love?”

Love for Self

Money is a popular but disappointing god. Many think that money will solve their problems, give them security, and bring the peace they long for, so they do whatever they have to do to get as much as possible. But money is a disappointing god because it over-promises and under-delivers. We think it’ll solve our problems, but it often creates more problems. We think it’ll bring peace, but it actually brings more stress and anxiety.

To be clear, there’s nothing wrong with money itself. But there’s a lot wrong with how we think and feel about money. This is why Paul says, “Those who desire to be rich fall into temptation, into a snare, into many senseless and harmful desires that plunge people into ruin and destruction. For the love of money is a root of all kinds of evils. It is through this craving that some have wandered away from the faith and pierced themselves with many pangs” (1 Tim. 6:9-10). Money is good in itself – we need it for many things. But the desire and craving and love of money turns us into people we never thought we could be.

Ridiculing Jesus

The Pharisees cannot tolerate anyone who criticizes their love affair with money, so they ridicule Jesus’ teaching on the subject. Making fun of Jesus was their way of minimizing and dismissing what he said, pretending like it didn’t bother them.

People will often sneer and scoff and mock and make fun of people who’re saying true things that they don’t want to acknowledge as true. The mocker mocks out of pride, out of a desire to make themselves look better than the person they’re mocking. But the mocker also mocks out of a desire to discredit the one they’re mocking. The Pharisees don’t want anyone thinking that Jesus is a legitimate spokesperson for God. Their mocking is meant to marginalize Jesus by publicly discrediting his authority.

Lest we think we’re any better than them, remember the line in “How Deep the Father’s Love for Us”:

Behold the man upon a cross

Our sin puts us in the same category as these money-loving, self-righteous, obnoxiously proud Pharisees who make fun of Jesus as a defense mechanism meant to move the spotlight away from their sin.

Just like Adam and Eve, sin drives us into hiding and in our hiding we try to cover our shame any way we can. Like the Pharisees, one of our favorite ways to cover ourselves is to uncover others. Beware of the mockers who love to point out other people’s faults but never their own.

A Sure Way to Hell

Jesus’ withering words for these pious pretenders is meant to expose them for what they are. Because their hearts aren’t oriented toward God’s purposes, they aren’t reliable interpreters of God’s will, in this case regarding the appropriate use of wealth.

But it’s not just that they’re not reliable teachers, Jesus says that they’re idolators. Because money is their god, and because they exalt something as God that is not God, they are “an abomination in the sight of God.” Jesus uses this word to describe the “abomination of desolation” that’s set up in God’s holy place in the last days (Mk. 13:14, Mt. 24:15). This “abomination” is an unholy and unclean idol that will be destroyed.

And this is how Jesus describes the Pharisees who love wealth and self. Their loves reveal their idols. And their idols are an offense to God. Jesus is saying that the Pharisees’ love of wealth and love of self is sending them straight to hell.

The Blessing of the Wealthy?

“People to-day are still disposed to regard those who have become rich and are known to give alms as people of the highest standing. God be thanked that there are many such wealthy people who are sincere and are a rich blessing to others, and live for the honour of God. Nevertheless, the Pharisaical types are, alas, still often to be found. Which of us is not to a greater or lesser degree infected by the same forms of spiritual blindness that in those days made the religion and life of so many Pharisees useless and dangerous?”

The love of wealth and the love of self is spiritually dangerous and damning, and it lives deep in all our hearts. The only thing strong enough to displace it is a new set of loves. And the good news (literally) is that with the dawning of a new age in Christ, new loves are available to all who welcome Jesus’ rule.

Love for God

First, those who’re in Christ begin to love his salvation. Jesus’ practice of hanging out with sinners raised questions about his view of the law, so he decides to speak directly to this issue in verses 16-17. In these verses, he justifies his practice by saying that, with John the Baptist and himself, a new era has dawned. When he says, “The Law and the Prophets were until John,” the “Law and Prophets” refer to the Old Testament period or age, not the Old Testament Scriptures because in the next verse he says that the Law isn’t void (v. 17). He’s not saying the Old Testament itself has been superseded, but that the period it represented has.

With John the Baptist and Jesus, a new age has dawned. John was the first to announce the arrival of the new age (Mt. 3:1-2), and was therefore a bridge between the old age and the new age. Since John, the “good news of the kingdom of God” has been preached.

“And Everyone Forces His Way Into It”

What do these verses mean? They mean that, since John the Baptist began preaching, the kingdom of God has been advancing forcefully in the world. Jesus’ message was the same as John. Their message was that the kingdom of God has arrived on earth and is now active in a powerful way. The power of God’s kingdom isn’t merely something coming in the future. It’s here now. Jesus demonstrated this by casting out demons, healing the sick, and transforming people’s lives through his preaching of the good news of salvation.

Those who understand this begin to love God’s salvation. This is what Jesus means when he says, “the violent take the kingdom by force” (Mt. 11:12) and “everyone forces his way into it” (Lk. 16:16). The kingdom has come decisively in Jesus and only those who make a decisive commitment to Jesus will receive it’s blessings. Only those who love the kingdom will do this.

The kingdom is here; it’s arrival has been announced since John the Baptist. Those who see the significance and glory of this reality will act decisively and give up everything to enter God’s kingdom. New Testament scholar George Ladd says it well, “The mission of Jesus has set up a powerful movement. The power of God is at work mightily among human beings. It requires an equally powerful reaction…The presence of the Kingdom demands a radical reaction.”

The kingdom of God has come! But it’s glory and blessings are only for those who seek it above all else (Mt. 6:33), for those who love it.

The kingdom of God is advancing across the world powerfully, forcefully, and currently. It’s not merely a future hope; it’s a present reality. But it’s power and joy and blessing is only for those who “force their way into it,” those who stop playing religious games and get serious about following Jesus as King. The kingdom is for those who love God.

The Kingdom Does Not Nullify the Law

Verse 16 says that with the coming of the kingdom, the age of the Law and Prophets has come to an end. Then in verse 17 Jesus says that the dawning of the new age of the kingdom doesn’t mean that the law is lapsed. But the dawning of a new age does mean, however, as we’ll see next week in verse 18, that a new and higher righteousness has come in Christ.

Jesus saw continuity and discontinuity in his relationship with the Law of Moses. On the one hand, he believed that the Law was the inspired and authoritative Word of God. He obeyed the commands of the Law and never criticized the Old Testament as not being the Word of God. He believed that his mission accomplished the complete fulfilment of the Law (Mt. 5:17), therefore giving the Old Testament permanent validity (Mt. 5:18, cf. Lk. 16:17).

His fulfillment of the Law is why he could say a new era began with him (Lk. 16:16). And this new era meant “a new definition of the role of the Law.” George Ladd says it like this:

“In this new order, a new relationship has been established between humanity and God. No longer is this relationship to be mediated through the Law but through the person of Jesus himself and the Kingdom of God breaking in through him. Jesus viewed the entire Old Testament movement as divinely directed and as having arrived at its goal in himself.”

In verse 17, Jesus is saying that, even though the Old Testament is preparatory it’s still authoritative. He’s affirming the continuity between the Old and New Testament eras. He says it’s easier for creation to disappear than for God’s word to not be fulfilled. Therefore, those who love God’s kingdom also love God’s word.

What Do You Love?

As I said at the beginning, Jesus came to move us from loving self to loving God. In our flesh, we love our wealth and our self, but in Christ we begin to love God’s salvation and his word.

The news of God’s kingdom coming in Jesus is “good news” because Jesus is a good King come to free us from the tyranny of lesser loves and bring us into the everlasting kingdom of his love. The news of God’s kingdom coming in Jesus is good news because our sinful loves are killing us. But in love, Jesus was killed for our sins. When we understand that he did that for us, it starts to change our loves. What do you love?

A Story in Two Acts

We’re looking again today at one of the most famous stories in the Bible, what’s often called the parable of the prodigal son, in Luke 15.  There’s a problem with this designation, however, because Jesus’ parable is actually about two sons, not one (v. 11).

The parable of the two lost sons has two Acts.  Act 1 is about a lost younger brother.  Act 2 is about a lost older brother.  Last week, we looked at each Act and considered who the True Older Brother is.  Today, we’re going to look at this parable again and see how Jesus redefines sin, redefines lostness, and redefines hope.

These reflections, and many from last week as well, are largely based on Tim Keller’s book The Prodigal God.[1]  He’s shaped my thinking on this parable more than anyone else, and I highly recommend his book to you.

Redefining Sin

First, let’s consider how Jesus redefines sin.  The two brother’s hearts are more alike than they first appear.

What did the younger brother want in life?  He wanted to make his own decisions and get out from under his father’s supervision.  He wanted complete control of his portion of his father’s wealth, so he defied his father and declared himself to be completely independent.

What did the older son most want in life?  The same thing as his brother.  He was just as resentful of the father as his brother.  He also wanted the father’s stuff more than the father himself.  But while the younger brother ran far away, the older brother stayed close and “never disobeyed” (v. 29).  This was his way of getting control.  His demand was, “I’ve never disobeyed you, so you need to do what I want you to do.”

The two brothers had the same heart.  Both resented the father’s authority and wanted to get out from under it.  Each wanted to tell the father what to do, ie. each one rebelled.  One rebelled by being very bad and the other by being very good.  But both were alienated from the heart of their father.

Do you see what Jesus is showing us?  “Neither son loved the father for himself.  They were both using the father for their own self-centered ends rather than loving, enjoying, and serving him for his own sake.  This means that you can rebel against God and be alienated from him either by breaking his rules or by keeping all of them diligently.”[2]

A Deeper Understanding of Sin

Jesus is helping us see that sin is far more than failing to keep God’s rules, that the essence of sin is replacing God’s authority with our own.  If like the older brother, you think God should bless you because you’ve worked hard to obey him and been a good person, “then Jesus may be your helper, your example, even your inspiration, but he is not your Savior.  You are serving as your own Savior.”[3]  You can actually avoid Jesus as Savior by keeping all the rules.

Both sons were using the father in different ways to get the things their hearts really wanted.  They weren’t loving the father.  It was his wealth not his love that they thought would make them happy and fulfilled.

Do you see Jesus’ radical redefinition of what’s wrong with us?  We think sin is merely breaking a list of rules, but Jesus shows us a man who’s kept all the rules but is just as lost as someone who’s broken all of them.  Why is this?  Because the essence of sin is putting yourself in the place of God as Savior and Lord.  Like the two lost sons, we seek to displace the authority of God in our lives.  This radical self-centeredness of the human heart is the root of all evil in the world.[4]

Both Wrong; Both Loved

Notice that Jesus doesn’t divide the world into moral good guys and immoral bad guys.  He says everyone is trying to save themselves, just in different ways.  He says everyone is using God to get control for themselves.  When a newspaper asked the question, “What’s wrong with the world?, the Catholic writer G. K. Chesterton wrote a response, “Dear sirs: I am.  Sincerely Yours, G. K. Chesterton.”[5]  This is the attitude of someone who truly understands Jesus’ message.

But the amazing thing is that, though both sons are wrong, the father goes out to both of them!  The parable shows us that in the gospel, though we’re all wrong, we’re all loved.

However, even though both sons are loved, the story doesn’t end on the same note for each.  One is saved and restored to a right relationship with the father, and one is not.  Why is this?  Because though both approaches to God are equally wrong, they aren’t equally dangerous.

The irony of the parable is that though the younger brother literally left the father and the older brother stayed home, the older brother was actually more distant and alienated from the father than his brother.  Why?  Because he was blind to his true condition.  He would’ve been horribly offended by the suggestion that he was rebelling against his father’s authority and love, but he was.  When you suggest that a religious person’s relationship with God isn’t right, they say, “How dare you say that!  I’m at church all the time, play by the rules, treat people nicely, and work hard.”  But with this parable, Jesus says, “It doesn’t matter.”  An older brother Pharisee is blind to what’s going on in their heart, so they’re in a much more spiritually desperate condition.

Redefining Lostness

Second, let’s consider how Jesus redefines lostness.  The metaphor of being “lost” and then “found” is how Jesus is explaining sin and salvation in Luke 15 (vv. 6, 9, 24, 32).  What does it mean to be spiritually lost?  The parable shows us that the younger brother’s lostness is when he ends up in the pigpen.  His indulgent life led to a complete collapse.  When he realizes he’s lost his way, he returns home to start over.

But, as I’ve said, the climax of the parable is the older brother.  With him, Jesus wants us to see a more subtle but no less devastating form of lostness.  Let’s look at this “older-brother lostness” more closely.  What does an older brother look like?

Anger and Superiority

The first sign that you have an older brother spirit is that when life doesn’t go the way you want, you aren’t just sad but deeply angry and bitter.  This is what happened with the older brother (v. 28).  Because older brothers believe God owes them a good life if they keep the rules, they get really upset when things don’t go the way they want.  Their pursuit of a good life wasn’t to please God but was rather a calculated way to control their environment.

Another sign we have an older brother spirit is a strong sense of our own superiority.  Notice how the older brother points out how much better he is than his brother (v. 30).  He won’t even own his brother as a brother, “this son of yours.”

Older brothers pride themselves on being smart and savvy, hard-working, moral, members of an elite family, and even extremely religious.  This leads to a consistent attitude of comparison and competition.  Comparing themselves with others is how older brothers achieve their sense of significance.  Because they’re not resting in God’s love for them because of what Jesus has done, they’re radically insecure persons, an insecurity that reveals itself in pride, defensiveness, and consistent criticism of others.

The older brother also has an unforgiving and judgmental spirit.  They can’t forgive the younger brother for the ways they’ve disgraced the family name or diminished the family wealth.  Notice that the older brother highlights that his younger brother has been with prostitutes (v. 30).  He’s saying, “I’d never do anything as bad as that!” because he doesn’t understand that he’s just as much a sinner as his brother.  He can’t forgive his brother as long as he feels superior to him.

If the older brother would’ve known his own heart and seen how he’s just as self-centered and was also grieving his father in his own way, he would’ve been able to forgive his younger brother.  But older brothers don’t see themselves that way.

Slavishness and Emptiness

Another sign that we have an older-brother spirit is joyless, fear-based compliance.  The older brother boasts of his obedience, but his underlying motivation slips out when he says in verse 29, “Look, I have been slaving many years for you” (CSB).  The word “slave” tells us he feels like he’s being forced or pushed rather than drawn and attracted.  A slave works out of fear, a fear of consequences if you don’t do what you’re supposed to do.  At root, the older brother is living a good life out of fear, not out of joy or love.  Older brother obedience is a slavish, begrudging compliance to the letter of the law, not out of love for God or others

This means that older brothers are only moral for their own benefit.  They may be kind or even generous, but they’re doing it so God will bless them or so they can be seen as virtuous persons.  Keller illustrates this with a story:

“Once upon a time there was a gardener who grew an enormous carrot.  So he took it to his king and said, ‘My lord, this is the greatest carrot I’ve ever grown or ever will grow.  Therefore I want to present it to you as a token of my love and respect for you.’  The king was touched and discerned the man’s heart, so as he turned to go the king said, ‘Wait!  You are clearly a good steward of the earth.  I own a plot of land right next to yours.  I want to give it to you freely as a gift so you can garden it all.’  And the gardener was amazed and delighted and went home rejoicing.  But there was a nobleman at the king’s court who overheard all this.  And he said, ‘My!  If that is what you get for a carrot – what if you gave the king something better?’  So the next day the nobleman came before the king and he was leading a handsome black stallion.  He bowed low and said, ‘My lord, I breed horses and this is the greatest horse I’ve ever bred or ever will.  Therefore I want to present it to you as a token of my love and respect for you.’  But the king discerned his heart and said thank you, and took the horse and merely dismissed him.  The nobleman was perplexed.  So the king said, ‘Let me explain.  That gardener was giving me the carrot, but you were giving yourself the horse.’”[6]

Older brothers do good to others but not out of love for God or love for others, but for themselves.

The last sign of an older-brother spirit is a lack of assurance of the father’s love.  Look again at what the older brother says in verse 29.  “You never threw me a party.”  He’s been busy trying to earn his father’s love and controlling him through his goodness yet he’s still not sure that his father loves him.  When you’re an older brother, you’re not sure God loves and delights in you.

Signs of this lack of assurance are, again, when something goes wrong in your life, you wonder if it’s because you aren’t living a good enough life.  Another sign is that criticism from others doesn’t just hurt your feelings but devastates you.  You need the approval of others because your sense of God’s love for you has no real power in your life.  Another sign is irresolvable guilt.  When you sin, you’ll torment yourself for a long time even after you’ve repented.  Because you’re not sure you’ve repented enough, you’ll keep beating yourself up over what you did.

The clearest sign of this lack of assurance is a dry prayer life.  You may be diligent in prayer, but there’s no wonder, no awe, no intimacy or delight in conversation with God.  Keller says it like this:

“Think of three kinds of people – a business associate you don’t really like, a friend you enjoy doing things with, and someone you are in love with, and who is in love with you.  Your conversation with the business associate will be quite goal-oriented.  You won’t be interested in chitchat.  With your friend you may open your heart about some of the problems you are having.  But with your lover you will sense a strong impulse to speak about what you find beautiful about him or her.  These three kinds of discourse are analogous to forms of prayer that have been called ‘petition,’ ‘confession,’ and ‘adoration.’  The deeper the love relationship, the more the conversation heads toward the personal, and toward affirmation and praise.”[7]

Older brothers’ prayer lives are focused on reciting needs and wants, not joy and praise.  In fact, many older brothers don’t have much of a prayer life at all until things start not going well, then they start praying a lot until things get better again.  This reveals that their main goal in prayer is to control their environment, not enjoying a relationship with a God who loves them.

Like the younger brother’s path, the older brother’s path is a destructive one.  It leads to harm and hurt for them and those around them.  And it ultimately leads to eternal separation from the father.

The two spiritual paths Jesus shows us in this parable are both mistaken and he wants us to see a radically different approach.  He wants us to come to him as the True Older Brother who left his home to come and find us and bring us home.

Redefining Hope

Finally, let’s consider how Jesus’ parable redefines our hope.  When we read Luke 15 in the context of the whole Bible, we realize that Jesus is retelling the story of the human race, the story of exile and homecoming.  The younger brother goes away “into a far country” (v. 13) looking for a better life but is disappointed.  He longs for home, remembering how good it was to be in his father’s house.  And so do we all.

“Home” has a powerful influence in our lives.  People spend billions each year visiting where they grew up.  Kids who grow up without a place to belong develop an incapacity for attachment as adults.  We all have memories of people, places, and times where we felt we were truly home.  But when we visit those people or places now, we often leave disappointed.

Keller describes it like this, “Home, then, is a powerful but elusive concept.  The strong feelings that surround it reveal some deep longing within us for a place that absolutely fits and suits us, where we can be, or perhaps find, our true selves.  Yet it seems that no real place or actual family ever satisfies these yearnings, though many situations arouse them.”[8]

There’s a sense in which we’re all like the younger brother.  We’re all exiles longing for home, always traveling but never arriving.  The houses and families we live in are like inns along the way, but they aren’t home.  “Home continues to evade us.”[9]

Why is “home” such a powerful yet elusive reality for us?  Because traces of the larger story of the whole world live in our souls.  We all feel like exiles because, though we were created to live in the Garden of God enjoying his infinite beauty and love, we chafed at his authority and wanted to live without his interference, so we turned away from him and became alienated from him.  We lost our home for the same reason the younger brother lost his.  And the result was exile.

The Bible says we’ve been wandering around as spiritual exiles ever since.  We’re living in a world that no longer fits our deepest longings.  We long to “run and not be weary,” but our bodies get tired, sick, diseased, and die.  We long for love that lasts, but all our relationships are “subject to the inevitable entropy of time.”[10]  Death takes from us all those we love, then takes us from those we love.  We long to make a difference in the world through our work, but we’re met with endless frustrations.  We never seem to attain our highest hopes and dreams.  We work hard to re-create the home we’ve lost, but in the end, the Bible says, it only exists in the presence of the Father from whom we’ve run away.

The theme of exile and return is all over the Bible.  Keller says, “The message of the Bible is that the human race is a band of exiles trying to come home.”[11]  The parable Jesus tells in Luke 15 is therefore about everyone one of us.  We’re all lost, far from the father, and need to come home.

The Difficulty of Return

The younger brother knows he needs to return home.  But he also knows that his acceptance back at home isn’t inevitable.  Why?  Because his sins have created a barrier between he and his father and he isn’t sure if that wall can be breached.  In the same way, the Bible shows us how high the barriers are for us to overcome if we’re to return home.

Despite all the ways the Lord rescued the Israelites throughout their history, they continued to be oppressed by one world power after another.  They never achieved the final homecoming they longed for.  They were oppressed from without, but also from within.  There was constant conflict in their hearts.  They were stuck in pride and selfishness and sin.  They needed a radical change inside of them.

But they also needed a radical change outside of them.  They (and we) live in a fallen world.  We weren’t made for a world full of disease, decay, and death.  The world as it currently is is not the home we were made for.  So a final homecoming must involve a radical change of the heart but also a radical change of the world we live in.

How is this possible?  When Jesus arrived, many were looking for a political and national liberation for Israel.  They prayed for a Messiah to come to liberate them and lead them to victory.  Then Jesus came saying, “The kingdom of God is at hand” (Mk. 1:15).  People loved listening to him and seeing his miracles.  But he didn’t fit their expectations and didn’t do what they wanted him to do.  So eventually he was crucified outside the city gate, a symbol of rejection and exile by the community.  And as he died, he said, “My God, my God, why have you forsake me?” (Mt. 27:46).  On the cross, Jesus was desperate for his Father, for home.

What was happening in that moment wasn’t what people expected.  They thought the Messiah would come and deliver one nation from political oppression.  But Jesus came to save all of us from sin, evil, and death itself.  He came to bring the human race home.

He came and experienced the exile we deserve.  He was expelled from the presence of the Father.  He was cast out into the darkness, experiencing spiritual alienation for us, in our place, to bring us into our true home.

The Feast at the End of History

Jesus not only died, but rose from the grave on the third day.  He broke the power of death (Heb. 2:14, Acts 2:24).  His death paid the penalty for our sin and his resurrection won us the victory over the forces of death, decay, and disorder that keep us from our true home.

And someday he’ll return to make that victory complete.  Isaiah says, “Your God will come…he will come to save you.  Then will the eyes of the blind be opened and the ears of the deaf be unstopped.  Then will the lame leap like a deer, and the mute tongue shout for joy.  The ransomed of the Lord will return, they will enter Zion with singing.  Everlasting joy will crown their heads.  Gladness and joy will overtake them, and sorrow and sighing will flee away” (35:4-6, 10).

The story of the prodigal son ends the same way the Bible ends, with a feast.  In Revelation 19, there’s “the marriage supper of the Lamb.”  This feast happens in the New Jerusalem that comes down from heaven and fills the earth (Rev. 21-22).  God lives in this city, and the tree of life is there (22:2).  This means that the earth has become like the Garden of God again.  Death and decay are gone and nations aren’t at war.  “He will wipe every tear from their eyes.  There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain – for the old order of things has passed away” (21:4).

This means that our future isn’t some impersonal form of consciousness.  We won’t be floating through the air on clouds.  Rather, we’ll be eating, drinking, laughing, singing, embracing, and dancing in the kingdom of God in degrees of glory and joy we can’t comprehend now.  We’ll no longer be always wandering but never arriving.  We will be finally home.

[1]Timothy Keller, The Prodigal God: Recovering the Heart of the Christian Faith (New York: Riverhead Books, 2008).

[2]Ibid., 42.

[3]Ibid., 44.

[4]Ibid., 68.

[5]Quoted in Ibid., 53.

[6]Ibid., 69-70.

[7]Ibid., 73.

[8]Ibid., 103.

[9]Ibid.

[10]Ibid., 108.

[11]Ibid., 109.

A Story in Two Acts

We come today to one of the most famous stories in the Bible, what’s often called the parable of the prodigal son, in Luke 15.  There’s a problem with this designation, however.  Jesus’ parable is about two sons, not one (v. 11).

The parable of the two lost sons has two Acts.  Act 1 is about a lost younger brother.  Act 2 is about a lost older brother.  We’ll look at each Act then think about two kinds of people in the world today, and who the True Older Brother is.  Next week, we’ll look at this parable again and see how Jesus redefines sin, redefines lostness, and redefines hope.

Act 1: The Lost Younger Brother

In verses 11-24, we meet the lost younger brother.  The story begins with a short request, “Father, give me the share of property that is coming to me” (v. 12).  In those days, it was common for the oldest son to receive a double portion of what the other children inherited.  So if a father had two children, the oldest would receive two-thirds of the estate and the youngest would receive one-third.  But this would only happen after the father died.  This would’ve been shocking to the original hearers.

The younger son asking for it now is a massive sign of disrespect.  It’s essentially him saying that he wishes his dad were dead.  The younger son wants his father’s stuff, not his father.  He’s weary of the relationship and just wants the wealth.  He wants out, and he wants out now.

Amazingly, the father says, “Okay,” and “he divided his property between them” (v. 12).  Rather than driving the younger son out and disowning him for dishonoring him, he grants his request.

Jesus’ listeners would’ve never seen a Middle Eastern patriarch do such a thing.  He willingly endures the loss of honor and the pain of rejected love for the sake of his son.  Normally, we respond to rejection with anger or aggressiveness, passive or otherwise.  But this father maintains his affection for his son even while his son rejects him.  In love, he absorbs the agony of rejection.

The Younger Brother’s Plan

You could say verse 12 is Scene 1 of Act 1.  Then in verse 13, Scene 2 of Act 1 begins with the younger son gathering his newly inherited wealth and journeying to “a far country” where he wastes everything he has in “reckless living” (v. 13).  After he spent everything he had, there was a famine, which meant food would be even more expensive, and “he began to be in need” (v. 14).  So he goes and finds a job with a local farmer feeding pigs (v. 15).

He was so hungry that he wanted to eat the pigs food, but he was so alienated from his new community that “no one gave him anything” (v. 16).  How bad do you have to be for people to deny you food when you’re hungry?

While in the pigpen, he finally comes to his senses (v. 17a).  This is what often needs to happen for younger-brother types to come home – they have to hit rock bottom.  A pastor friend once told me that he sometimes prays that the bottom would come quickly for those spiraling down.  Sometimes it does.  But sometimes it takes years and even decades.

He remembers how well-fed his father’s servants are and wonders why he’s choosing to starve when they’re eating well (v. 17b).  Notice that his initial motive to return home was hunger, not love for his father.  Sometimes we think our motives have to be perfectly pure before God will accept us.  But this story teaches us otherwise.

He comes up with what he’ll say to his dad (vv. 18-19).  He’ll admit he was wrong and that he’s forfeited his right to be his son.  But he also decides to ask his dad to make him one of the “hired servants” (v. 19).  This is a very specific request.  Servants worked and lived on the estate.  But “hired servants” were paid by the owner of the estate but lived in local villages nearby.  So the son is planning to tell his dad, “I know I don’t have a right to come back into your home or into the family, but I’m willing to be a hired hand and earn some money so I can begin to repay you what I owe you.”

The Father Runs!

Then comes the dramatic final scene of Act 1 (vv. 20-24).  When the younger son is in sight of the house, his father sees him and runs out to meet him (v. 20).  Middle Eastern patriarchs didn’t run – children and women and young men ran, not the patriarch.  But this father runs!  He felt so much love and compassion for him that he “ran and embraced him and kissed him” (v. 20).

The son begins his rehearsed speech of repentance to his dad (v. 21).  But his father interrupts him and ignores his plan and does the opposite of what he was going to suggest (v. 22).  The best robe would’ve been the father’s robe, so giving it to his son was an unmistakable sign that he was being restored to the family.  The father is saying, “I’m not going to wait till you’ve paid off your debt to restore you.  You don’t have to earn your way back into the family, I’m simply going to take you back, cover your nakedness, poverty, and rags with my own robes.”

Then the father tells the servants to kill and prepare the fattened calf (v. 23).  He’s going to throw a feast in his son’s honor, and beef will be the main course.  At that time, meat wasn’t served at most meals because it was expensive, especially beef.  Throwing a feast like this would’ve only happened on very special occasions.  The entire village would be invited.  The father says there must be great food, music, and dancing to celebrate the return of his son.

Amazing and Free Grace

Act 1 of this story tells us that God’s love can restore anyone, that his forgiveness can pardon the worst sins.  It doesn’t matter who you are or what you’ve done.  It doesn’t matter if you’ve deliberately hurt people, taken advantage of people, abused people, even murdered people.  In the father’s house, the younger brother learned that there’s food and grace to spare, that there’s no evil the father’s love can’t pardon and cover.  That there’s no sin bigger than his grace.

Hopefully you can see how Act 1 displays the lavishness of God’s grace.  The father’s love was there for his son before he had a chance to clean up his life and provide evidence of a changed heart, even before he could recite his repentance speech.  Nothing can merit God’s love, not even the most desperate contrition.  The Father’s love is absolutely free.

Act 2: The Lost Older Brother

Many think that the main point of this story is God’s amazing love for younger brother types.  But if that were the case, Jesus would’ve ended his story here.  But he didn’t, because that isn’t his main point.  Act 2 in verses 25-32 shows us the true climax of the story.

When the older brother hears that his younger brother has returned, been reinstated to the family, and a party in his honor is underway, he’s furious.  Now it’s his turn to disgrace his father.

He refuses to go in to celebrate his brother’s return (v. 28a).  By remaining outside, he’s publicly declaring that he doesn’t agree with his father’s decision.  It’s a vote of no-confidence in his father, publicly dishonoring him.

This compels the father to come out to speak with him, to plead with him to come in (v. 28b).  This would’ve been a demeaning thing to do for the master of the house and host of the feast.  But he does it because he desperately wants his oldest son to come inside.

Why is the older brother so upset?  First of all, he’s upset about the cost of the party.  He says, “You’ve never given me a goat for a party, but you give him a calf!”  What the father had done was actually more costly than just a calf.  By welcoming the younger son back into the family, he’s made him an heir again with a claim to one-third of the now diminished family wealth.

The older brother calculates all this on the spot.  He’s saying to his dad, “I’ve worked myself to death and earned what I have, but my younger brother has done nothing to earn anything.  In fact, he’s only earned expulsion from the family, yet you lavish him with wealth!  How is this fair?  Where’s the justice in what you’re doing?”

This is why he refers to his excellent track record, “I never disobeyed your command” (v. 29).  He’s saying, “I’ve earned your wealth, my brother hasn’t.  I have rights, he doesn’t.  How dare you give him what he doesn’t deserve!”

The older brother’s fury leads him to dishonor his father by refusing to speak to him with deference and respect, especially in public.  Instead of addressing him as “dear dad” or even just “father,” he says in verse 29, “Look,” which is equivalent to, “Look, you!”  This was a humiliating way to speak to an elder in that culture.  It’d be similar to cursing out your dad in a store if he doesn’t give you what you want.

The Father’s Gracious Response

How will the father respond to this public humiliation, to his older son’s open rebellion?  What will he do?  It wouldn’t have been unusual at that time for him to disown him on the spot.  But again he responds to a rebellious son with amazing grace (vv. 31-32).

He says, “Son, despite how you’ve insulted me publicly, you’re still my son.  You’re always with me and my wealth is yours.  Despite how your younger brother acted, I’m not going to disown him, and I don’t want to disown you either.  It’s good that we celebrate his homecoming.  Please come in and celebrate with us.”

Will the family be reunited?  Will the brothers be reconciled?  Will the older brother be softened by his father’s remarkable and gracious offer?  Just as we’re wondering what he’ll choose to do, the story ends!

Why doesn’t Jesus finish the story and tell us what the older brother decides to do?  Because the main audience for his story is the Pharisees, the “older brothers” who were complaining about Jesus hanging out with sinners (vv. 1-2).  He ends the way he does to challenge them to think about their own lives.

Two Kinds of People

Jesus doesn’t finish the story because he also wants us to examine our hearts to see which brother we are.  Are we the younger brother or the older brother?  Or maybe a bit of both?

The two lost brothers reveal the two kinds of people there are in the world, the two different ways of being alienated from God, and the two different ways of trying to be accepted by God.

Remember, the setting of the parable says there were two groups listening to Jesus that day.  First, there were “the tax collectors and sinners” (v. 1).  These correspond to the younger brother.  They didn’t keep the moral or ceremonial laws of the Bible.  They lived recklessly.  They “left home” by leaving the traditional morality and religion of their parents and society.

Then there were “the Pharisees and the scribes” (v. 2).  These were represented by the older brother.  They kept the traditional moral and religious values of their upbringing.  They studied and obeyed Scripture.  They worshipped faithfully and prayed often.

Looking at the Older Brother’s Soul

Which kind of person do you think wanted to be around Jesus?  Luke says in verse 1 that the sinners were “all drawing near to hear him.”  The tense of the verb indicates that this was an ongoing pattern in Jesus’ ministry, not a one-off event.  The irreligious continuously flocked to Jesus.

This shocked and angered the religious!  Luke summarizes their complaint in verse 2, “This man receives sinners and eats with them.”  Eating with someone in the ancient Near East was a symbol of acceptance.  So the religious leaders were baffled by Jesus’ acceptance of irreligious people, saying, in effect, “How dare Jesus reach out to sinners like that!”

As I said last week, the three parables of Luke 15 are Jesus’ defense of why he chose to hang out with sinners.  This means the parables are primarily directed at the second group of his listeners, the Pharisees and scribes.  The parables are his way of responding to their attitude.  The parable of the two lost sons is Jesus’ way of taking an extended look at the Pharisee’s soul.  And it climaxes with a powerful plea for them to change their heart.

This means that the targets of this story aren’t the wayward sinners but the religious people who believe the Bible and do what it says.  Jesus isn’t pleading with immoral outsiders, but with moral insiders.  He wants them to see their blindness and self-righteousness.

It’s a mistake to think that Jesus tells this parable primarily to assure younger brothers of God’s amazing grace.  This parable reveals the destructive self-centeredness of the younger brother.  But it also condemns the elder brother’s moralistic life in super strong terms.  With this parable, Jesus is saying that both the irreligious and the religious are spiritually lost.

A Pharisee for a Brother

This parable invites and challenges us to examine our hearts and see which brother we are.  Jesus has laid out the two basic ways people pursue happiness and relate to God.  And he exposes each as profoundly inadequate to give us what we’re looking for.  The parable is meant to show us that there’s a better approach.  But where do we find it?

We find it when we realize Jesus left someone out of the parable.  Remember that Luke 15 has three parables, not just this one.  In the first one, a shepherd goes out and finds his lost sheep.  In the second one, the woman searches until she finds her lost coin.  The similarities between the three parables are obvious.  Something is lost, a sheep, coin, or son, and in each the one who loses something gets it back.  And each one ends with a celebration when the lost one is found.

But there’s a profound difference between the first two parables and the third one.  In the first two, someone “goes out” and finds the lost thing.  But when we hear about the younger son being lost, we assume that someone will go out and find him.  But no one does.

Jesus meant this to be startling.  He wants us to think, “Who should’ve gone out to search for the lost son?”  And Jesus knew that the Bible begins with another story of an older and younger brother, Cain and Abel (Gen. 4).  In that story, the Lord assumes that the proud and resentful older brother, Cain, would be his brother Abel’s keeper.  But instead he was his murderer.

There’s a story of a young man going missing in action in the Vietnam war.  When the family couldn’t get any news about him, his older brother flew to Vietnam and began searching the jungles for him himself.  Despite being in a war zone, he was never hurt because both sides had heard about what he was doing and respected his quest.  He was simply called, “the brother.”[1]

This is what the older brother in the parable should’ve done.  It’s what a true older brother would do.  He’d say, “Father, my younger brother has made terrible choices, and his life is in shambles.  But I will go look for him and bring him home.  And if he’s spent his whole inheritance, which I expect he has, I’ll bring him home at my expense.”  Indeed, it’s only at the older brother’s expense that the younger brother could be brought home because the father had already divided the property and everything that remained belonged to the older brother.  When the father tells the older brother, “All that is mine is yours,” this is literally the case.  Bringing the younger brother home will be costly for the older brother.

Forgiveness is always costly, though it is always free to the offender.  If they have to do something to earn it, it’s not forgiveness.  But forgiveness always comes at a cost to the one granting it.  Act 1 of the parable showed us the freeness of the father’s forgiveness, while Act 2 shows us its costliness.  The younger brother’s restoration was free to him but came at great cost to the older brother.  The father couldn’t reinstate him except at the expense of the older brother.  There was no other way.

But Jesus doesn’t put a true older brother like this into the story, an older brother who’ll pay whatever the cost to bring the lost younger brother home.  “The younger son gets a Pharisee for a brother instead.”[2]

The True Older Brother

Thankfully, we don’t.  Jesus puts a flawed older brother in the story to make us long for a true one.  And in Jesus we have him.  In him, we have an older brother who came all the way from heaven to earth and was willing to pay an infinitely high price to bring us home.  As older and younger brothers, we’ve rebelled against the father and can’t afford the debt we owe.  We deserve alienation and rejection.  But our true older brother, Jesus Christ, paid our debt on the cross so we can come back home.  The only way the Father could bring us home was at the expense of our true older brother.

When we realize he did that for us, when we’re moved by the cost he paid for us, the inner dynamics of our hearts begin to change.  We move from fear and anger to love, joy, and gratitude.

Jesus had all the power in the world but saw us enslaved to things we though would make us free, so he emptied himself of his glory and became a servant and died on the cross for our sins (Phil. 2).  All so that our hearts can rest, so that we can come home to the Father’s house.

His selfless love counteracts the mistrust in our hearts toward God that turns us into younger or older brothers.  When we see the beauty of his love, we’ll be freed from the neediness and fear that creates either younger or older brothers.  As William Cowper says,

“To see the Law by Christ fulfilled,

and hear his pardoning voice,

changes a slave into a child

and duty into choice.”[3]

[1]Ibid., 91.

[2]Ibid., 94.

[3]Quoted in ibid., 100.

Your Picture of God Changes Everything

What is God like?  How would you describe him?  Cold and withdrawn?  Austere and aloof?  Remote and exacting?  Distant and demanding?  Harsh and punishing?

One writer says, “Few things are more important than our perception of God, for from that understanding we perceive our own identity, how we should think and act, and how the world ought to be.”[1]  In other words, if you think of God as mostly like the God I just described, then you’re going to think of yourself as mostly a failure who has to try really hard to gain God’s attention and love.  You’re going to be really hard on yourself and on others.  You’re not going to have much patience for mistakes.  Your view of people will be governed by their performance.

The way you understand God shapes the way you think about yourself and others.  What if the way we commonly perceive God is not what he’s really like?

Rather than cold and withdrawn, what if he’s warm and engaged?  What if he’s close and caring?  Tender and gracious?  Slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love?  What if he’s gentle and lowly?

What if God is a seeking and caring God?  A God who intentionally moves toward the lost and hurting?  If so, then his grace should change the way we think about ourselves and how we treat others.

Two Parables of Lostness

This is what the two parables are about that we’ll look at today.  In Luke 15:1-10, Jesus continues to reveal the heart of God to us.

The reason these parables are so important is because they reveal the heart of God.  How Jesus went about his ministry was purposefully designed to show us what God is like.  Jesus’ actions and attitudes reveal God’s actions and attitudes.

The point of these parables is that God loves the lost and wants us to love them too.  We’ll look at the parable of the lost sheep (vv. 1-7), then the parable of the lost coin (vv. 8-10).

Jesus Was Approachable

First, let’s look at the parable of the lost sheep in verses 1-7.  At the end of chapter 14, Jesus said, “He who has ears to hear, let him hear” (v. 35).  Then verse 1 of chapter 15 says that “the tax collectors and sinners were all drawing near to hear him.”  Luke repeats the word “hear” to connect these sections, showing us that the ones who truly hear Jesus aren’t the ones we’d expect.

I like how the CSB translates verses 1-2, “All the tax collectors and sinners were approaching to listen to him.  And the Pharisees and scribes were complaining, ‘This man welcomes sinners and eats with them.’”  The sinners were “approaching” while the Pharisees were “complaining.”  What a contrast!  Some were hungry for Jesus’ word; some were angered by Jesus’ work.  If you want to know who’s who in the world today, just look for who’s wanting more of Jesus and who’s always upset about something.  And, as is the case here, those hungry for Jesus’ word won’t always be those you expect.

The self-righteous religious people were upset that sinners were getting too close to Jesus.  People who’re sick are finally seeing the doctor and some of the other patients are upset with the doctor!  This is similar to what we saw in Luke 5:27-32.  Jesus is doing what he came to do but it didn’t fit some people’s plan, so they complained.

“Sinners and tax collectors” were “approaching” Jesus because he was so approachable.  He is “lowly in heart” (Mt. 11:29), ready to receive and welcome and enjoy anyone who comes to him.

Yes, Jesus is holy and glorious and righteous and supremely ruling over all things.  But there’s also no one else more approachable than Jesus Christ.  He’s not so high that you can’t reach him, so rich that you can’t know him, or so powerful that you can’t be comfortable around him.

The highest person in the universe says that he’s “lowly.”  This means that there aren’t any hoops you have to jump through to be with him.  There are no prerequisites.  In fact, the only kind of person he works with is the kind who admits their need and comes to him for grace.

The Lost Sheep

This grace is demonstrated in the three parables that follow.  First, the parable of the lost sheep in verses 3-7.  The point of this parable is that God cares deeply about every lost sinner and that every single lost person is worth going after.

Jesus may have Old Testament texts like Ezekiel 34 in mind.  It mentions sheep wandering on the mountains (v. 6), says that God will care for them (v. 11), judge their oppressors (vv. 17, 20, 22), and give them a Davidic shepherd to care for them (vv. 23-24).  Ezekiel says that God will judge the shepherds who should’ve been caring for the sheep but weren’t.

Jesus’ parable is thus an implicit complaint against the religious leaders for not being the shepherds they were supposed to be, for not seeking the lost sheep of Israel.  It’s also Jesus’ way of signaling that he’s taking up the task described in Ezekiel 34 which describes a deliverer sent from God who’ll shepherd God’s people.

The Point of the Parable

It’s tempting to approach parables allegorically, seeking to find hidden meanings and significance for all the characters or elements of the story.  But because parables are analogies, to properly interpret parables we must figure out how the analogy works.

The way this analogy works is simple.  Jesus is comparing the actions and attitude of the shepherd who goes after the lost sheep to God.  His argument is a “how much more” argument.  He’s saying, “If a shepherd will go after a lost sheep and rejoice when he finds it, how much more will God go after a lost person and rejoice when he finds them?”

The actions and attitude of the shepherd in the parable reflect the actions and attitude of God in reality.  God’s character is such that he cares about every lost person.  And Jesus’ actions (like eating with sinners and tax collectors) reveal God’s character.

Remember the context (vv. 1-2).  The parables that follow are Jesus’ defense for why he deliberately associated with and ate with people known to be sinners.

And with the parable he showed the ones complaining about his actions that their attitude didn’t match the character of God.  This is amazing!  Jesus is telling the people who represented God that they weren’t representing God.  He’s inviting to God’s table the ones who assumed they were already at God’s table.  He’s telling the hyper-religious people that they need to come in and join the celebration of the kingdom of God and receive the forgiveness that he’s dispensing.  With this parable, Jesus both affirms the unrighteous and rebukes the self-righteous.

The parable teaches us about the character of God as specifically revealed in the ministry of Jesus.  The parable teaches us that God values even the least deserving and extends care to them.  As one writer says, “God is not passive, waiting for people to approach him after they get their lives in order.  He is the seeking God who takes the initiative to bring people back, regardless of how ‘lost’ they are.”[2]

This parable shows us that the God revealed by Jesus is a caring God, a seeking God, a God who values those without value so much that he actually goes after them.  Is this the God you know?

Loving the Lost

As I said earlier, the way we understand God changes the way we understand everything.  Understanding that God seeks us creates freedom and confidence and joy.  And his grace toward us should cause us to be caring and sensitive toward others.  Let me read a few lines from Klyne Snodgrass’s commentary on Jesus’ parables.  They hit me right between the eyes, and I hope they do you as well.  Speaking about how God’s grace for us should change the way we care for others, he says:

“We tend to know these truths abstractly, but they are not translated into practice either in how we view ourselves, in how we treat others, or in how we arrange church life.  We are more likely to assume that God must be much more harsh, and we are more likely to look for the ninety-nine than the lost one.  Do lost, disobedient to God, and ‘insignificant’ people have any sense from us that God really cares about and seeks them?  Or that we do?”[3]

How do you see lost people?  Do you want them to be saved, or are they more of an annoyance and aggravation to you?  Do you pray and look for opportunities to point them to Christ?  The point of this parable is that God loves the lost and we should too.

God Values Repentance

Let me say a quick word about repentance, as it features prominently in the parable (v. 7).  “Righteous” doesn’t mean “sinless.”  It refers to those who have a right standing with God.  Repentance is both a one-time event that the Holy Spirit works in our hearts when we see the sinfulness of our sin and our deep need for Jesus.  And it’s a life-long process of fighting sin.  The “righteous persons who need no repentance” refers to the first aspect of repentance.  They aren’t sinless, but they already have right-standing with God through faith.  A good paraphrase of this verse could be, “One repentant sinner brings pleasure to God more than ninety-nine people in good standing with God.”[4]

Jesus isn’t teaching about the nature of repentance, but these two parables do highlight and stress the value of repentance.  Without repentance, we aren’t saved.  And I’m not saying we need to clean our lives up and then God will love us.  The whole Bible says that God is the one who takes the initiative in salvation.  And the whole Bible says that humans must act and respond to God.  Is your life one of responding to the grace of God, or trying to make yourself look right?

The Lost Coin

The second parable that shows us God’s love for the lost is the parable of the lost coin in verses 8-10.  This parable also shows us the character of God as revealed through the ministry of Jesus.  It’s Jesus continuing to explain why he hangs out with sinners.

The parable is another “how much more” parable.  If a woman will search diligently for a lost coin, how much more will God diligently search for his lost people?

The meaning of this parable is basically the same as the one before, but Jesus does add something here.  Notice the words “seek diligently” (“search carefully,” CSB) in verse 8.  The woman’s diligent search reflects God’s heart to go after his people until he finds them.  If a woman will expend herself until she finds the coin, how much more will God expend himself until he finds his people?  God will not give up until he saves his lost ones.

Think of your own story of coming to faith in Christ.  How long did it take for you to come to Christ?  Did you trust him the first time you heard the gospel?  Did you wrestle with hard questions and even try ignoring and running away from God?  Yet, he stayed after you.  He didn’t give up until he’d conquered your heart.

The parable is a poignant picture of God’s search for us.  And if this is God’s character, it should be ours as well.  The parable doesn’t tell us how to search for the lost, but the implication is that we should.  We may think of seeking the lost as evangelistically accosting people in perhaps rude and unwise ways.  But what if it looks more like receiving sinners like Jesus did, over a meal, with conversation and dialogue, speaking the truth in love?

We may think that sinners don’t change fast enough, but how long did it take you to get to where you are?  And we may worry that hanging out with sinners will give us a bad reputation or be a bad influence on us?  As followers of Jesus, it’s necessary that we not engage in sin, but it’s also necessary that we seek the lost.

Jesus is our model.  He never affirmed sin.  He didn’t want people to stay in their sin.  But he never communicated disdain for sinners.

Jesus shows us God’s heart for sinners.  God loves sinners so much that he sent his Son Jesus to die for them, to take their sins and the punishment they deserve on the cross so they can be forgive and restored to fellowship with God.

God Celebrates

And when a sinner comes home to God, God celebrates (vv. 7, 10)!  The joy of God in the salvation of sinners is a major theme in the parables of Luke 15.  God’s recovery of his lost ones is occasion for great joy.  Think of how you feel when you find something you’ve lost.  Now multiply that times a million.

The unseen kingdom of God erupts in celebration when the lost are saved.  Joy is an essential feature of God’s kingdom and must not be neglected.  “Where joy is absent, the kingdom is absent.”[5]

God loves the lost and wants us to love them too.  His kingdom has come in Jesus, and it’s come with limitless grace, even grace for those we don’t think deserve it.  And it’s come with limitless demand.  God diligently searches for his people, a diligence he expects to be replicated in his people.

How do you see the lost?  Do you move toward them or away from them?  When you remember that God loved you enough to move toward you, you’ll want to move toward the lost with grace.

[1]Klyne R. Snodgrass, Stories with Intent: A Comprehensive Guide to the Parables of Jesus, 2nd ed. (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2018), 109.

[2]Ibid.

[3]Ibid., 110.

[4]Ibid., 108.

[5]Ibid., 117.

A Big Ask

Sometime in the late summer or early fall of 1810, Adoniram Judson wrote a letter to the father of a young lady he’d recently fallen in love with, Nancy Hasseltine.  He wanted to marry Nancy, so he wrote these now immortal words to her father:

“I have now to ask, whether you can consent to part with your daughter early next spring, to see her no more in this world; whether you can consent to her departure, and her subjection to the hardships and sufferings of a missionary life; whether you can consent to her exposure to the dangers of the ocean; to the fatal influence of the southern climate of India; to every kind of want and distress; to degradation, insult, persecution, and perhaps a violent death.  Can you consent to all this, for the sake of him who left his heavenly home, and died for her and for you; for the sake of perishing, immortal souls; for the sake of Zion, and the glory of God?  Can you consent to all this, in hope of soon meeting your daughter in the world of glory, with the crown of righteousness, brightened with the acclamations of praise which shall redound to her Saviour from heathens saved, through her means, from eternal woe and despair?”[1]

Adoniram was asking Nancy’s father to give up his daughter for the glory of Jesus among those who’d never heard the gospel.  Her father was willing, giving Nancy his blessing.  Nancy prayed and sought wise counsel from her friends, eventually deciding to marry Adoniram and go with him to Burma.  She wrote to a friend, “I feel willing, and expect…to spend my days in this world in heathen lands…I have about come to the determination to give up all my comforts and enjoyments here, sacrifice my affection to relatives and friends, and go where God, in his providence, shall see fit to place me.”[2]

Adoniram and Nancy were willing to lose everything so that others might gain Christ.  They made a radical decision to get on a boat, cross an ocean, and ultimately die in a foreign land because they thought Jesus was worth it.

All or Nothing

Where does this sort of commitment come from?  It happens when the Holy Spirit enables Jesus’ followers to take his commands seriously.  And Jesus’ commands are so hard that there’s no way we could obey them if the Spirit didn’t help us!

For example, one of those hard commands is in Luke 14:33, “So therefore, any one of you who does not renounce all that he has cannot be my disciple.”  Jesus says that his followers must renounce (relinquish, forsake, surrender, give up, hand over) everything they have, or they can’t be his followers.  Jesus says it’s all or nothing.  This is a hard teaching.  What does it mean?

Today I want us to consider what renouncing all for Jesus means and what it doesn’t mean.  The main point of our text (Lk. 14:25-35) is that following Jesus demands that we give all to Jesus.  I want to talk about what that means and what that doesn’t mean.

More Than Just Showing Up

But first let me point out the context of our passage.  Jesus has just given the parable of the great banquet in verses 12-24.  The wealthy host extends his invitation to people we wouldn’t expect when the originally invited ones make excuses and don’t show up.  The parable is an illustration of the grace of the kingdom and the need to respond to God’s invitation to sit at his table.

Then right after this parable about the generous grace of God’s kingdom come several warnings and demands.  The parable says God wants a wide sweep of people to fill his house.  Everyone’s invited to enjoy his grace.  But then Jesus quickly reminds us that with his grace come demands.

The fact that these demands come right after the invitation of grace remind us that discipleship isn’t just showing up.  Following Jesus isn’t about presuming to just sit at his table in ease and comfort.  Rather, those who come to the table must come through sacrifice and suffering.

Jesus feels the need to make this clear because his audience has shifted from the Pharisees house to a large crowd (v. 25).  The crowd is a large “pool of potential disciples.”[3]  They’re tagging along because they sense something special and exciting is happening with Jesus.  But unfortunately, most of them won’t fully grasp what it means to follow Jesus.  They’re following Jesus on the road, but they aren’t yet his disciples, and there’s a big difference between simply going along with Jesus and being his disciple.

Lots of people are interested in Jesus – everyone loves a parade, but few are willing to become his disciples.  Few are willing to change every priority in their lives and conform their lives to his word.  Jesus knows this so he decides to stop and tell people what truly following him looks like.  And he says plainly that it means handing everything over to him.

What Does Renouncing All for Jesus Mean?

First, what does renouncing, or handing over, all for Jesus mean?  According to Luke 14:25-35, it means at least three things.  Here Jesus talks about three commitments every disciple must make, or three characteristics of discipleship.  The disciple must choose Jesus over family (v. 26), be willing to suffer (v. 27), and willing to surrender their possessions (v. 33).  Each of these commitments are noted in the text when Jesus says, “…and does not..”  He says this three times (vv. 26, 27, 33).  Let’s look at these three characteristics of discipleship one at a time.

Jesus Over Family

First, Jesus says that following him means that he becomes your primary allegiance, even over your family (v. 26).  “Hating” ones family isn’t what it sounds like.  This is a Semitic expression used to describe preference for one thing over another.  “I love A and hate B” is like saying “I prefer A over B.”  Genesis talks about Jacob loving Rachel and hating Leah (29:30-31), and the Lord says in Malachi 1:2-3, “I have loved Jacob but Esau I have hated.”

Matthew’s version of this saying brings out the meaning more clearly.  Jesus says in Matthew 10:37, “Whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me, and whoever loves son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me.”  Jesus is saying that his followers must love and obey him over everyone else.  No family member can take priority over him.  Jesus, not our family, is our master.

And this is good for us because when we elevate family relations over God things get screwy really quick.  Parents start seeking emotional comfort and connection from their children instead of their God.  Spouses start seeking to control and manipulate each other, using each other to quiet their aching hearts, instead of resting in the Lord.  Siblings start fighting over everything from toys to places at the dinner table to inheritance because they’re not trusting what God provides.

Then there’s the reality that many of our family members don’t know the Lord and so can tempt us or subtly try to persuade us to not love Jesus too much.  One writer says it this way, “Natural affections can undermine faithfulness to God and provide us with excuses to back down in our commitment.”[4]  It’s easy to think, “My wife/husband/mom/dad/son/daughter/brother/sister would be upset if I followed Jesus in this or that way, so maybe I shouldn’t.”

But following Jesus will actually help us love our family even more than we did before because we finally know what real love is.  Because Jesus becomes our primary identity, we aren’t defined by our family anymore.  We’re free to truly love them because we don’t depend on them for our security and well-being.  One writer says it like this, “Discipleship to Christ must take precedence over all other relationships in life and the securities they offer.  It requires redefining those relationships with some measure of detachment.”[5]  John Hasseltine could let his daughter Nancy go to India because she didn’t define him.  And she could go because her family didn’t define her life, Jesus did.  They were both living for something much bigger than themselves.

Nonetheless, there will be times when following Jesus may be seen as rejecting family if the family doesn’t share the same commitment to Christ.  We may not have to choose family or Jesus very often, but if we ever do, Jesus tells us who his followers must choose.

Willingness to Suffer

The second thing Jesus demands of his followers is a willingness to suffer (v. 27).  Jesus calls us into a lifetime (verb is in the present tense, indicating ongoing action) of sacrificial suffering for his sake.

This is going to look different for everyone.  Some will be called to martyrdom, or death for Jesus.  Some may be called into an agonizing and difficult marriage to an unbeliever.  Some may be called into a work situation where no one around you cares about God.  Some may be called to endure harassment or ridicule or being rejected at school.  But all are called to “bear their cross.”  And Jesus isn’t asking us to do anything he wasn’t willing to do himself.

Jesus illustrates the seriousness of this call by giving two short illustrations in verses 28-32.  Because following Jesus is hard, Jesus says to stop and think about it very carefully before you do it.  He’s not after hasty or emotional decisions.  Instead, he says, “count the cost” (v. 28).  Before you come to his banquet table where his grace is free, you have to decide if you’re willing to give up everything or not.

This is just common sense.  When you start a project, you first think about whether you have what you need to finish it.  You prepare.  So it is with following Jesus.  You stop and think about the cost and whether you want to pay it.  You have to consider whether you’re willing to lose friends, not date certain kinds of people, not compromise at work just to make more money.  The point isn’t that you have to earn salvation.  The point is that “God’s grace can only be received by those who, in repenting, place him above everything else.”[6]

Willingness to Surrender Possessions

The third thing Jesus demands from his followers is a willingness to surrender their possessions (v. 33).  “All that he has” is translated “all his possessions” in the CSB.  The term here always refers to earthly possessions in the New Testament.  Jesus plainly says that his followers “renounce,” or say goodbye or break free from, their possessions.

Jesus has already asked Peter, James and John (5:11) and Matthew (5:28) to leave everything and follow him.  Twice he asks people to sell their possessions and give to the poor (12:33, 18:22).  This pattern of sacrificial giving continued into the new Christian community.  Acts 2:45, “And they were selling their possessions and belongings and distributing the proceeds to all, as any had need” (cf. 4:34).

The verb to “give up” is in the present tense and so means continuous action.  This isn’t a one-time handing over.  It’s a lifestyle.  Sacrificial giving should be part of our lives as followers of Jesus.  It’s not optional.  It’s not just for those who’re older, retired, or wealthy.  It’s a basic and non-negotiable part of following Jesus.

In my view, we should give at least 10% of our income to the Lord through our local church, and then on top of that look for ways to give even more to those in need, as we’re able.  Using the material things God’s given us to bless others reveals that our hearts have been freed from the false comfort and security of wealth, freed to love and serve others in Jesus’ name.  We always put our money into the things we love.

Saltless Salt

Then in verses 34-35, Luke adds this somewhat enigmatic saying about salt.  Jesus says that his disciples are the “salt of the earth” (Mt. 5:13).  But if they lose their “saltiness,” they’re worthless.  He’s saying that if these three characteristics of our discipleship fade away, we’ll also be useless.  We’ll be like unsalty salt.

Luke is writing to Christians who needed to be reminded what their commitment to Christ was supposed to look like.  Jesus is full of grace, but he doesn’t give out cheap grace.  It’s not cheap because it cost him everything and it’s not cheap because it demands everything from us.

Jesus says these things to the crowd because he doesn’t want half-hearted followers, people just along for the ride, who love his teaching while the fundamental values and loyalties of their life remain unchanged.  And he doesn’t hide this in the fine print somewhere.  He puts it out there in bold for all to see.  He wants us to know that the kind of person who sticks with him to the end isn’t driven by sudden bursts of feeling and enthusiasm, but rather a steady and sober commitment to him no matter what.

God’s grace is free, but it’ll cost you everything.  Those who sign up to follow Jesus must “renounce all that they have” or they “cannot be his disciple” (v. 33).  This “renouncing,” or handing over” everything for Jesus means being allegiant to him even over family.  It means suffering for him.  And it means surrendering your possessions to him.

What Renouncing All for Jesus Doesn’t Mean

But, secondly, what does renouncing all for Jesus not mean?  Jesus’s demands are serious and sobering and must be obeyed for any who claim to follow him.  But we need to make sure we’re understanding his demands rightly.

For example, does his demand for our ultimate loyalty to be to him over family mean we should neglect our family for him?  Does his demand that we suffer for him mean that we must put ourselves in the most dangerous positions possible?  Does his demand to surrender our possessions mean that we must sell everything we own and go live under a bridge?

The answer is no in each case.  It’s tempting to hear the demands of Jesus and then apply them in the most radical way possible.  We think, “If Jesus says he’s my highest loyalty, then maybe I shouldn’t get married?  If I need to suffer for him, maybe I should move to Saudi Arabia and start evangelizing indiscriminately?  If I should surrender my possessions, then maybe it’s wrong to buy things for my kids to enjoy, maybe I should give all my extra money to missions?”

Michael Horton explains why, especially nowadays, it’s easy for us to assume that Jesus’ demands must be applied in the most extreme ways possible.  He writes:

“Radical.  Epic.  Revolutionary.  Transformative.  Impactful.  Life-changing.  Ultimate.  Extreme.  Awesome.  Emergent.  Alternative.  Innovative.  On The Edge.  The Next Big Thing.  Explosive Breakthrough.

You can probably add to the list of modifiers that have become, ironically, part of the ordinary conversations in society and in today’s church.  Most of us have heard expressions like these so often that they’ve become background noise.  We tune them out, unconsciously doubting what is offered because it has become so predictably common…

We’ve become accustomed to looking around restlessly for something new, the latest and greatest, that idea or product or person or experience that will solve our problems, give us some purpose, and change the world.  Although we might be a little jaded by the ads, we’re eager to take whatever it is ‘to a whole new level.’

‘Ordinary’ has to be one of the loneliest words in our vocabulary today.  Who wants a bumper sticker that announces to the neighborhood, ‘My child is an ordinary student at Bubbling Brook Elementary’?  Who wants to be that ordinary person who lives in an ordinary town, is a member of an ordinary church, and has ordinary friends and works an ordinary job?  Our life has to count!  We have to leave our mark, have a legacy, and make a difference.  And all of this should be something that can be managed, measured, and maintained.  We have to live up to our Facebook profile.  It’s one of the newer versions of salvation by works.”[7]

Jesus says that if anyone wants to follow him, they must love him more than family, bear their cross, and renounce everything for him.  This is radical sounding stuff.

But what if renouncing all for Jesus looks a lot more ordinary than you think?  We may hear verses like this and assume that pastors and missionaries and those working with the poor are the only ones really taking them to heart.

But what if what he means is that, if you want to follow him, you have to make him Lord in every area of your life?  What if renouncing all to follow him means husbands sacrificing for their wives and wives submitting to their husbands, children obeying and honoring their parents, employers treating their employees fairly and employees working hard to use their gifts to bless others?  What if it means church members thinking of ways to bless each other and praying regularly for one another?  What if it means students not cheating but rather doing their best work?  What if it means that you don’t get to define your gender or who you can have sex with but rather submit to God’s design and commands?

Renouncing all to follow Jesus looks a lot more ordinary than you think.  It looks like faithful marriages and parenting and work and play and ministry.  It’s not as glamorous as you think.

“It is Not Our Part to Master All the Tides of the World”

As always, Gandalf says it better than I can.  Towards the end of The Lord of the Rings, he says, “It is not our part to master all the tides of the world, but to do what is in us for the succour of those years wherein we are set, uprooting the evil in the fields that we know, so that those who live after may have clean earth to till.  What weather they shall have is not ours to rule.”[8]

In other words, our job in “Middle Earth” is to faithfully do what we’re supposed to do where we are for the good of others, pushing back evil and not trying to be the “master of all the tides of the world.”

Following Jesus will cost you everything, but it’ll look more ordinary than anything.  And of course, the only way we can bear our cross for him is because he bore his cross for us.  John writes, “And he went out, bearing his own cross, to the place called The Place of a Skull, which in Aramaic is called Golgotha.  There they crucified him” (19:17-18).

When we understand that he did this for us, we’ll do whatever we must for him.  His grace is free for all who know they need it, and for all willing to give everything to have it.

[1]Courtney Anderson, To the Golden Shore: The Life of Adoniram Judson (Valley Forge: Judson Press, 1987), 83.

[2]Ibid., 84.

[3]David E. Garland, Luke, Zondervan Exegetical Commentary on the New Testament (Grand Rapids: Zondervan Academic, 2011), 600.

[4]Ibid.

[5]Ibid., 606.

[6]Robert H. Stein, Luke, in The New American Commentary, vol. 24 (Nashville: B&H Publishing Group, 1992), 397.

[7]Michael Horton, Ordinary: Sustainable Faith in a Radical, Restless World (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2014), 11-2.

[8]J. R. R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings: 50th Anniversary One-Volume Edition (Boston: Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, 2004), 879.